


Life, Death, and Apples

by MoonSword1994



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Friendship, Multi, Past Character Death, Slow Romance, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 87,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonSword1994/pseuds/MoonSword1994
Summary: Noriko lives the typical life of a student. She studies religiously to stay at the top of her class while balancing a full social life, athletic interests, and spending time with her family. Then one day, she is given a dark gift, one that will reveal secrets and memories many tried to bury and forget. The deeper she falls into the past, the more apparent it becomes that not all is as it seems. It soon becomes evident that not everything can be forgotten or left to die in a warehouse.





	1. Habitual

**Author's Note:**

> This is the (unofficial) sequel to the famous anime/manga series Death Note. I wrote this because I felt that the story wasn't over and that there was more to explore with the characters.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it.

_Nothing is right. The world I am seeing is grey and void of any life, it is different, and it thrills me. I can feel the power of this place though it is just an echo, like a voice from a distant memory; it draws me in, and I embrace it. I look down a tunnel to my left, and I see a shadow forming there, the tendrils of darkness molding the shape of a person. There is no face, but I watch in amazement as what appears to be a hand stretches out to me. Common sense tells me to run in the other direction, but something in my soul tells me I should go to it like it is part of me. I take a step towards the figure, confident that I will finally find out who it is . . ._

“Noriko!” calls my father from downstairs. “You’re going to be late for school if you don’t get up now!”

Slowly I rise from my soft bed, lamenting the loss of my dream world, but I know it is pointless to try to return to the world of lifeless grey. It does not return at my command, even though I have seen it since I was a small child, and each time it seems more real than the time before.

“I’m coming, Dad!” I yell back as I pull my uniform out of my closet. I look over at my bedside clock and see I have half an hour to get ready if I wanted to make it to school before the last bell.

I go to my en-suite bathroom and quickly change into my school clothes before taking care of my morning routine. Brush my teeth, wash my face, apply moisturizer, apply deodorant, brush, and style my hair, finally, use a bare trace of perfume. Once I reach the second to last step of my routine, I look at myself in the mirror, wondering if I will see something new. Nothing about my appearance is outstanding, at least not to me, and I nod to my reflection. Considering how precious my time is of late, I do not want to waste more than I have to.

With my entrance exams just a few short months away, my schoolwork occupies a significant portion of my time. If not for how often I study with my friends, I would never see them given how much time I spend in my room, at school, cram school, and in the library. I am glad my family is as understanding as they are, but I do feel a little bad about not spending as much time with my little brother.

Gathering up my school things I scan my room for any sign of anything I might have missed in my slight mad dash. My clothes are in the hamper, books are in my arms, and my pencil case is in my satchel downstairs, as are my shoes and jacket. Nothing seems to be out of place, and everything I need is already here. With a relieved sigh, I head out of my room and towards the staircase, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee greets me.

As I enter the living area, I see my father and brother already seated at the table while my mother cooks. My dad is reading the newspaper, a black pen in hand to circle anything of interest to him or his case; most of the time he just circles something he is sure Koji or I will find interesting. My little brother, Koji, sits across from him already dressed in his school uniform of my former elementary school. He swings his legs as he eats from his giant bowl of impossibly sugary cereal, and I smile to myself as I put my books down on the coffee table and head over.

I slip into the chair beside my father, who acknowledges my presence with a wink. Koji beams at me, generally he says something but his mouth is currently full with food; I am glad he does not share with me.

“Good morning, Noriko,” says my mother over her shoulder as I help myself to some toast with strawberry jelly and a cup of jasmine tea. “I hope you slept well.”

I nod as I mix in a spoonful of sugar into my tea. “Yes,” I reply. “Oh, Mom, before I forget. I’m going to the library tonight to do some research for my new project.”

“What’s your project about, Nori?” asks Koji, finally between bites of cereal, although he is getting droplets of milk on the table.

“Famous detectives throughout history,” I say as I help myself to a few orange slices as well. "It's the final project for my study of law class, and worth a significant portion of my grade."

My father smirks. “Who are you researching? Your dear old dad?”

I roll my eyes; of course, he says something like that. “I’ve chosen to write about the detective L.” Seconds after the words leave my mouth a weird look crosses my father's eyes like heis remembers something better left forgotten.

“I see,” he says a little stiffly. “Well, you’ve certainly chosen a difficult topic to research, very little is known about L. The police here have had dealings with him in the past, and we still don’t know much beyond his name and occupation.”

“I’m up to the challenge,” I say with a small smile. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll learn something about him you don’t know.”

Koji grins brightly. "If anyone can find out what L's hiding, it's you, Nori. You solved that case at my school. Someone was breaking into lockers and stealing phones, and you were the one who found the guy. Teachers still talk about that. I'm glad no one expects me to solve mysteries, I don't think I could deal with the pressure."

"Koji, you would do just fine," I argue kindly. "Dad's a top detective at the NPA and Mom used to be a CIA agent before she came over. You could probably be the next Sherlock Holmes if you set your mind to it."

Koji rolls his eyes. “Nori, the only one of us that will be Sherlock Holmes is you. I’m just fine with being the Ping-Pong World Champion.”

I smirk as I take a bite of my toast. Koji plays Ping-Pong competitively for his school and is set on being the champion ever since he heard there is such a thing. He is outstanding and led his school to the championship game his first year on the team, proving that he has what it takes to succeed; his career path is assured if he can finally beat me.

"No, you can't, that's my hobby job," I tease before taking another bite of food and watch as his cheeks flush pink. It frustrates him endlessly that I win every time we play together, no matter how much he practices or how much I slack off.

“I challenge you to a final match of Ping-Pong!” he declares, standing up in his seat and glaring down at me, I almost choked on my bite from laughing. "Winner takes all!"

Mom materializes beside us and claps me on the back while glaring at Koji for shouting in the house and standing on the furniture. "Neither one of you is going to have any career in anything if you don't knock this off. It's way too early to be arguing over something like Ping-Pong. Noriko quit antagonizing your brother and Koji don't issue out challenges to your older sister, especially loud ones."

“You two get way too competitive,” says Dad calmly, still looking at the newspaper. “You know every time you play; we get new holes in the walls and broken chairs.”

Koji and I look at Mom, who is giving Dad a look that makes us shrink down in our chairs. Dad remains completely oblivious.

"And as I recall, you didn't do a damn thing to stop them, Touta," says Mom darkly and her tone makes Dad sit up perfectly straight as he puts down the newspaper. "If they end up playing again, you had better referee them properly. Otherwise, you'll be sleeping at Aizawa's."

We then turn our attention to Dad, who is smiling nervously at Mom.

"Don't worry, Raku, I'll oversee them next time," he says, and then he looks at us rather sternly. "No Ping-Pong until my next day off, otherwise you'll both be grounded and have to pay for anything that gets broken or damaged."

Koji and I share a scared look before nodding. More than anything, Dad hates spending the night at our Uncle Aizawa's house and that is always Mom's threat whenever she is angry or annoyed with him. Dad only ever once stayed the night with Uncle Aizawa, and that was when I was eight and Mom had had a bad day with Koji, who was barely one at the time. We can never get him to disclose what happened, but it is apparently bad enough that he never wants to stay over there again.

"The bus is here, Koji," blurts Mom as she rushes to get him his lunchbox. "Run along to school and don't forget, you're going to tutoring tonight, and your father will pick you up on his way home from work."

She puts the box down in front of him and kisses his forehead.

“Okay, Mom!” says Koji happily as he stuffs the box in his crammed backpack and heads for the door, I lean forward and watch as he attempts to put on his school blazer, bag, and his shoes on all at once. He trips over himself before dashing out of the door.

“I should get going myself,” I say as I stand up from the table, I lean down and kiss my father’s cheek before getting my lunch from the counter behind my mother. I do not even try to kiss her cheek. I then collect my books from the coffee table. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

“If you’re going to miss dinner, please call,” says Mom as I head for the _genkan_. "I'll have something for you, just in case."

“Thanks, Mom!” I call to her as I step into my shoes and put on my jacket. I slip my books into my satchel and sling it over my shoulder. Bracing myself for the cold outside, I open the door and leave.

* * *

 

The walk to and from school is always my favorite part of the day, even in November; I use it as a time for recreational thinking, my one real escape from studying. This morning, my mind drifts back to my dream. I have had this dream for as long as I can remember, it used to be the same thing over and over, just a grey cave with shadows but since my seventeenth birthday, it developed into what it is now. It almost feels like I am looking at this world through someone else's eyes, that this is what they are seeing and I am just a passenger. As strange as it seems, this line of thought feels right, somehow. It may be my imagination getting the better of me, but thinking that I am sharing this dream makes it feel less lonely and more tolerable. Of course, that just leaves the mystery of with whom I am sharing it and exactly where the hell they are.

“Hey, Noriko wait up!” says someone to my left. When I look, I see my friend Sango running to catch up with me.

“Hi, Sango,” I say as I stop and wait for her to catch up with me. I realize I have already passed by her house and did not even bother to stop; I suppose I was more absorbed in my thoughts than usual. "Sorry about that."

Sango brushes it off with a wave of her hand, and we begin walking again.

“It’s fine, Noriko,” she says dismissively. “You obviously have better things to think about than leaving your best friend behind.”

I sigh to myself; Sango is always one for dramatics. "I was just thinking about the nationwide exams; we should be getting the results today." I feel a little bad about lying to her, but I do not feel comfortable sharing my dream with her, she might not understand, or she would feel compelled to tell Parisa and Haru. My friends are very dear to me, truly, but there are some things that they just do not need to know.

“What do you think you got on the exams?” asks Sango, tucking some of her red hair behind her ear. “I’m pretty sure I scored what I need to for admission to Wasegi, so I’m happy with that. Do you think you’ll get into To-oh?”

“Probably,” I reply, somewhat modestly. “With all of this studying, I should at least get the bare minimum.”

Sango smirks. “What happened to those aspirations of getting a perfect score like Light Yagami? The whole school is waiting to see if they’ll have another perfect score come out of the exams.”

"I've curtailed my expectations," I say easily. "Have you picked what you're going to major in yet? Deadlines for that are coming up, aren't they?"

“Yes, I know,” she sighs and then she gives me a false glare. “Just so you know, not everyone has chosen their degree by the time they’re seven, Nori.”

I smile triumphantly. “What can I say? Detective work has always called to me.”

Sango pushes me gently in the shoulder. “Why can’t you just go to Wasegi and get a degree there? Why does it have to be To-Oh?”

"My parents have always pushed for To-Oh," I say thoughtfully, "and I've heard wonderful things about it from research and when I went to visit it a few years ago. I've dreamt of going there since middle school. You know that."

Sango sighs dramatically. “I wish I had your ability to make choices and stick with them. If I did, I wouldn’t be stuck trying to decide between Haru, Aoi, and Eiji.” She then gives me a sly wink. “Which one would you pick?”

I blush, just like always whenever she brings up this topic of conversation; ever since I was thirteen I have had a crush on Haru and Sango is well aware of it. She has had a crush on him for the same length of time, and we confessed it to each other on the same day but agreed that we would leave it up to Haru to decide which of us he likes more. In the four years since that day, he is still completely oblivious.

"You know who I'd pick," I say in a mock defensive tone. "Sadly, we made that pact, and neither you nor I can ask Haru out, we have to wait for him to choose."

Sango shakes her head. "That boy. He'll never pick. Well, he might, and it'll probably be Parisa."

I laugh loudly. “That would be just our luck, wouldn’t it?”

“Shut up,” snaps Sango and I obey with some hesitancy; lately she seems more and more preoccupied with Haru and our secret pact. “Nori, what if Haru asks me out?”

“Then I would be happy for you,” I reply sincerely, we have this conversation multiple times a year, and each time I give the same answer. “And if he asked me out?”

Sango looks down at the ground and then up at the sky. "I'd be okay with it."

I can hear the lie; I know she will be devastated if Haru chooses me over her. “You know, we really should find different guys to be interested in.”

She turns and smiles at me. “I know. It would save us a lot of trouble.”

* * *

 

God, how I hate world religions class. It is just a teacher babbling on and on about religions around the world and how their practices differ from person to person, country to country, and generation to generation. Currently, we are studying cults and organizations outside of regular religious practices, while they are slightly unusual, my mind wanders back to earlier, when Sango and I were discussing Haru. As much as I like him and do want to date him, I do not want to lose my friendship with Sango over it, even if our friendship is not the strongest; the four of us have been friends since elementary school and to ruin everything over a simple crush would be terrible. Then again, only Sango and I know about our crush on Haru, so it will only ruin one friendship rather than four.

I lay my head down on my arms and stare out of the window. Why does being seventeen have to be so difficult?

“Matsuda,” says my teacher, Mr. Irie, his voice startling me. “What do you believe to be the opinion of the _tanjogami_ worshippers on the state of the world?”

I sigh and stand up from my desk. "The followers would believe that everything is going according to how the _tanjogami_ devised the world, as they are of the belief that the life gods see and record the destinies of the people who inhabit the world.”

"Excellently explained," says Mr. Irie as I sit down in my chair once again. "Miss Matsuda is correct; the _tanjogami_ disciples would see the world is in its destined state." He turns back to the chalkboard and begins writing the fundamental doctrine of the _tanjogami_ religion. "Of course, they would face an uphill battle trying to convince some other faiths that they are right. There are some who believe that the world could be improved."

“You mean like Kira?” asks a student from the other side of the classroom.

The room is completely silent after his words. The student brought up the touchiest subject in the entire world: the serial killer Kira the Savior. While not formally taught in school, the subject of Kira is often brought up for debate and discussion, and as a result most of us are familiar with the legend. I am quite fascinated by it; it is hard to believe that one person could bring about such change in the world simply by killing off criminals. Even though it had been reported that he was caught and executed years ago, unexplained deaths still happen, and rumors persist that there is a mostly underground cult.

Mr. Irie turns around and looks surprised for a moment before composing himself. "Yes," he says calmly as if this is just a regular topic of conversation. "Kira would likely describe the world as being in a state of complete chaos and needs drastic change. He would say that criminals haven't been punished adequately, and not enough people are contributing to society." Something flashes across his face, and it is gone so quickly, I cannot say for certain what it was. "Now, back to the _Tanjogami_.”

I am sure I am the only one who saw Mr. Irie’s face; everyone likely fixated on his words rather than his expression. I sit back in my chair and gaze out the window, now wondering about the feared killer. He was active over twenty years ago and according to the Internet, was executed the same year I was born. During his time he killed thousands of people, mostly by heart attacks but many suspects he could kill by other means, so those deaths are unaccounted for; in reality, he could have killed millions. His followers were vocal and active during his reign, and after his death, they slowly faded into the background. The only time they come back is when a criminal is paroled or executed. They are a loud and rowdy bunch that usually disperses within minutes of being confronted by the police, so no one pays them much attention anymore. By law, we are required to report any suspected Kira worshippers so they can be put on a list to be monitored. My father told my mother it is now a common practice for people going through divorces or reporting others for abuse to accuse the person of being a Kira cultist. He told her the police now arrest both and judges usually sentence both should the subject be brought up.

Thinking about that discussion I overheard reminds me of when I attempted to put up the issue of Kira with him and my mother several years ago, after hearing about the serial killer from a friend. Before I could ask my full question, my father ended the conversation immediately. He said Kira is pure evil and anyone associated with him is no better, and that it is our duty as concerned citizens to report any and all Kira-related activity, no matter how minimal it might be. I glance at Mr. Irie from the corner of my eye, and I see him doing the same to me while he speaks to the rest of the class. That display earlier might be grounds for an investigation if I told my father about it, then again I may be seeing things and risk getting arrested myself for falsely accusing him. I look away.

* * *

 

Class ends with little incidence a short while later, and we leave for our lunch hour. I pick up my satchel from the floor and head straight for the rooftop, hoping that our usual spot is available. Generally, during lunch my friends and I sit near the corner of the roof that has the most fantastic view of the area around the school; it is an excellent spot to get some sunshine and listen to the bustling world around us. It makes me feel like we exist in a separate space from the rest of the world, where what we do is living and what they do is provide a backdrop.

I sit down at my usual spot and rest my back against the stone verge before reaching into my satchel to retrieve my lunchbox. I am a little surprised when I open it and see what my mother packed me: she made me my favorite cucumber roll, tuna roll, a thermos of tea and a couple of slices of freshly made honey cake. Something apparently came over my mother for her to pack such a lunch.

“Hey, Nori,” says a voice above me, I look up and see Haru standing above me with his lunch. “How’s the weather down there?”

“You would know if you sat down,” I reply with a smile.

Haru blushes a little as he sits. “What a comeback, Nori, pure wit.”

I nudge him a little with my shoulder. “It’s better than that line you just used. ‘How’s the weather down there?’ how uninspired and unoriginal.”

“You wound me with your sharp tongue,” he says, putting a hand over his heart like someone just injured him. “What kind of person can be so cruel and yet look so sweet?”

I blush a little as I pour a cup of tea. “A wicked one,” I say, and Haru laughs.

“Hi, Nori, Haru, what’s so funny?” asks Sango as she approaches, Parisa at her side.

“Nothing,” we reply.

Sango looks at me carefully before she and Parisa sit down in front of the opposite verge; Sango’s feet come to rest on top of my ankles, a habit of hers since we started sitting here.

“God, I thought lunch would never come!” she says with a heavy sigh. “Why did they have to schedule physics right before lunch?! I can't think without food, don't they realize that?"

“I don’t believe your eating habits were taken into consideration when creating your schedule, Sango,” says Parisa lightly as she opens her lunchbox.

Sango sticks her tongue out at Parisa before unwrapping her salad. “Shows what you know, Pari, I bet they did it just to torture me because my parents got me out of physics last year.”

Haru nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, that may have had something to do with it; after all, threatening to sue the school if they didn’t let you take an English class was not a very good idea.”

Sango rolls her eyes. “I needed to take that advanced English class instead of physics last year. It was the only time it was offered.”

“That was the year you were going to be an English professor, look at how well that panned out,” I say teasingly, and she glares at me. “Calm down, San-San, I'm just kidding around. You would have been an excellent professor.”

My words seem to placate her ego enough to halt her glaring. “Thank you, Nori." She takes a bite of her salad. "Are we going to study tonight?”

“Don’t we always?” I ask, slightly disgusted with her eating habits. “Maybe tonight we should work on projects rather than just studying. We all have something due before winter break.”

Everyone groans.

“Do we have to?” asks Sango in a pleading tone. “Can’t we just study extra tonight and call it good?”

Parisa takes off her glasses to clean them. “I would rather do anything than research ancient Chinese pagodas. Remind me again why I picked architecture as an elective?”

“Because you want to study it in university,” says Haru kindly then he frowns. “I wish my history project wasn't this detailed. We have to pick an emperor, write about his accomplishments and how they have influenced today's society.”

I bite back a grin. “Now I feel silly for thinking my project was the more difficult one.”

The three of them look at me accusingly.

“What’s your project, Nori?” asks Haru curiously and I look down at my lunch.

“Researching the detective L,” I reply, and they all let out loud exasperated groans.

Sango throws a cherry tomato at my head. “If you think that’s so easy, then you can do your project and mine for physics. That should be a sufficient challenge for the great Noriko Matsuda.”

“She has a point, Nori," says Parisa, glancing at Sango. "Maybe you should do my project as well; you would certainly find it interesting.”

“And mine,” interjects Haru. “We'll all do our homework and study, and you can do our projects. We'll even pay you.”

I roll my eyes. “This isn't middle school anymore, and I'm not going to do your projects for you so that you can pay me a measly five bucks.”

The three of them look at each other.

“We'll pay you ten,” they say, and I cannot help but laugh.

“I'll consider it,” I say at last. “But I'm not doing it alone; you have to help me.”

They nod, and I know they will at least help me find books and articles on the subjects, which will cut down some time. Our conversation drifts from there to our usual talk about the latest drama, rumors of upcoming tests, and family issues. I remain quiet and only listen, preferring to watch the birds flying overhead and the clouds change shape with the wind. A cool breeze, colder than it should be for this time in November, cuts through my sweater and chills me to the bone. I look around, and no one else around me seems to have experienced it, rather they are staring at me strangely, and I simply shrug, this appears to satisfy them, and they go back to their conversation. Carefully I glance at the other students, no one else seems to be reacting to the sudden chill, and I find myself shivering from something besides the cold.


	2. Realizations

I stretch my arms high above my head, reclining slightly back in the hard wooden chair at the table we had claimed when we arrived at the library a few hours ago. I glance over at the clock on the wall and sigh, it is nearly nine o'clock, and I am just now getting to my project for my study of law class. I have spent the three hours we have been here assisting the others with their projects while they worked on the homework and study guides they did not complete in cram school. Apparently, their marks on the nationwide exams had not been what they were expecting, as they practically threw themselves into their work once we sat down.

"You look tired, Nori," says Parisa without looking up from her textbook. "Did the pagoda paper wear you out that much?"

I put my seat's front legs back on the floor and lower my arms. "No, just the endless stream of pages on the subject." I stand up and stretch, popping my back in the process. "Have you three gotten much accomplished?"

Sango shrugs as she scribbles down a few notes from her physics textbook. "I'm about halfway through this assignment, should have it finished by tomorrow evening."

"You know it's due tomorrow afternoon, right?" asks Haru, glancing at her work.

"Crap!" shouts Sango and she begins to work faster. An angry hiss from the librarian is heard from amongst the bookshelves.

"Honestly, you need a better work ethic," I say as I head for the bookshelves.

"Where are you going?" asks Haru.

"To research my project," I reply with a lazy wave.

"Would you like any help?" asks Paris and I stop and turn to look at her; the three of them rarely if ever offers to help me with my projects. Discreetly I look at her face and hands, looking for any indication that she is lying or being sarcastic.

Of all of us, Parisa is probably the calmest and most relaxed; rarely does anything bother her and when it does she quickly recovers making her the most difficult of my friends to read. She is not without her tells, however: she fidgets with her glasses when she is irritated or wrings her hands when she is apprehensive and quickly blinks when she is lying. It took me a while to figure her out, which is partly why I befriended her, she was a challenge to me, but after I got to know her, I liked her for other reasons.

"What about your calculus homework?" I ask cautiously. "Don't you need to work on that?"

Parisa shrugs as she closes her textbook with her notebook inside of it. "I'm almost finished, and besides, you helped me with my paper, so I feel obligated to return the favor."

I smile happily, glad for the company and the help. "Thanks, Pari, that's sweet of you."

"No problem," she says as she stands up. "I'm sure Haru and Sango can survive without us for an hour or two."

"I hope you aren't gone that long!" exclaims Sango followed by another hiss from the librarian. "What if I can't get this done?"

I look to Haru who just shrugs. "Ask Haru; he knows physics like the back of his hand."

Haru smiles brightly at me, which causes Sango to shoot a withering glare in my direction, her grey eyes like steel.

"Thanks, Nori, that's nice of you to say," he says, oblivious to the look Sango is giving me. "Come on, San-San, let's get through this."

Sango instantly transforms, smiling warmly at him as if she had not just been trying to burn me alive with her eyes. "Thank you! You're such a sweetie, Haru."

He blushes as she moves her things closer to his side of the table and Parisa and I take that as our sign to leave. I try to ignore the twisting of my guts.

* * *

I sigh heavily as I close a book and put it on the pile beside me, that one had little to nothing about L save for a brief mention of him participating in an investigation I have already found. I return to the only book that I have found with any decent leads regarding L. It states that his first documented case had been in the UK in the mid-1990s. It is a small lead but using the first known date of L becoming involved in a case; I can roughly pinpoint his age at the time he began. If my math is correct, and I am sure it is, this would make him either a relatively young child or a young adult when he became a detective. Extrapolating a little bit more, this means he is currently in his late thirties or early forties, depending on which one is true. Personally, I am leaning towards the early forties theory, given how long he has been working publically.

Something bothers me about L, besides the obscure references and dates; there are inconsistencies in how he operates, contradictions that seem to stop and go for no particular reason. When he first worked, he made bold moves and risks, as evident from him putting a death row inmate in his place when first confronting Kira. Then there were a few years where he did nothing of the sort; he dove even further into the shadows, only being involved with the Kira case but still issuing orders to police agencies around the world. There are some articles from different countries stating L had been approached for assistance, but he turned the offers down, even though the cases match qualities of former cases he had been involved with before. Almost like he became a different person.

The most recent articles about L show he has somewhat gone back to his old habits, choosing cases that personally interest him. There is one article about a time when several senior citizens and terminally ill patients here in Japan were dying on a fairly regular basis, and it was investigated by the local police force. I was about two at the time, and my father was briefly involved with the case, but the case was closed relatively quickly. It was suspected to be a far more merciful incarnation of Kira, and L stated in a public statement, it was of no interest to him. The killings stopped shortly after.

This has been bothering me since I started researching L, how can a person have such an outlined method of conducting an investigation completely change it for a few years only to revert as if nothing has happened? Why would he do that? If there had been a second L during that change of MO, who could it have been and what happened? Does this mean the current L is the third or the original? So many questions and so few resources for answers.

"How are you doing, Nori?" asks Parisa from the other side of the bookcase I am resting against.

I close the book of news articles. "Fine, just reading. How are you?"

"Fine," she replies. "I think I might have found another book on his earlier cases, but I'll let you know."

"Sounds good, thanks, Pari," I say, and I hear her start to hum. She hums when she is focused on something.

When I am sure she is completely absorbed in her book, I reach for the book I had stashed earlier in the middle of the stack, one regarding dream symbolism and meaning. Anyone would have said I could have looked everything up for both my assignment and my dream online, but my preliminary research informed me that the Internet is a very unreliable resource. Pro-Kira groups have tried to mar and discredit the reputation of the detective and have tainted everything to do with him, so I resolved early on to go through paper articles and books. Fortunately for me, no one had thought to burn books that had even a single reference to him, yet.

I open the book, which is more like an encyclopedia, and start with the most obvious aspect of my dream: the grey world. I flip to the 'G' section of the book and start searching for 'grey' in the listing; I find it halfway down the page. I read a few lines and then roll my eyes. The book is saying dreaming of grey means I am living an unhappy or colorless existence. That is not true in my opinion, my life is very fulfilling, aside from a few changes I would like to make but nothing serious. I decided against reading the rest of the description and look up the second most prominent aspect of my dream: the shadow figure. I turn to that section of the book, after reading the first few words I slam the book shut and put it back on the stack. That description says I have yet to integrate mental aspects of my personality into my primary character, or that I am feeling overshadowed by someone. Who could be dominating me? These books are pointless and full of nonsense. I think about the cave and the feeling of ancient all around me. The area seems like something out of legend or myth rather than a simple dream.

"People are disgusting," I hear Parisa mutter on the other side of the bookcase.

"What did you find?" I ask, and I hear her move the books around.

"Just one of L's cases," she replies, the disdain in her voice startling clear. "This group of terrorists used a small child as a carrying case for a deadly virus they were going to unleash on a plane. L barely saved the child and everyone on board."

I nod along as she speaks, thinking about the detective. He sounds somewhat heroic, doing what he has done for the world, a real hero.

Parisa makes a noise that sounds vaguely reminiscent of vomiting. "The would-be terrorists only got life in a federal prison."

"What should they have gotten instead?" I ask, curious to see where this is going.

"Death," I hear her whisper, barely audible in the quiet space.

I sit there for a moment and think about what she said. Those people indeed seemed like they should have been put to death rather than be put up for life in a federal prison; after all, they tried to infect dozens of people and used a small child as their carrier. That was cruel and unusual in many ways, and if they were to be released, it is evident to me that they would attempt it again. They used a child, a small child, to carry their biochemical weapon; if they were prepared to go that far, then they indeed would have no issue of crossing the line again.

"What do you think?" asks Parisa softly. "Do you think they should have died?"

I shrug slightly. "Maybe, they certainly had no regard for human life beyond using it as a means to an end." I adjust my posture. "They would certainly deserve it if they were released and then tried to do it again."

"I see," says Parisa, almost as if she is disappointed in my answer.

Silence falls between us, and I am about to stand up and go searching for a book on myths when I hear footsteps approaching. They sound familiar, though slightly muffled on the soft carpet and after another second I recognize them as Haru's, he is either looking for us or going to get a book. When I hear him draw closer to our position I know he is looking for us; I glance at my watch, it is nearly ten o'clock, which means the library is getting ready to close.

Haru turns the corner at the bookcase I am sitting behind and smiles like he has been looking all over Japan for me. "Finally," he says, extending a hand to help me up from the floor. "Is Parisa nearby? The library's about to close."

"I'm right here," says Parisa from behind the bookcase. "How did Sango's physics homework go?"

Haru shrugs as I take his hand and he pulls me up. "Pretty well, all things considered, she seems to know it, her problem is she can't be bothered to do it."

"That sounds like Sango," I mutter, and the two of them snicker. "Anyway, we should probably get going, I doubt the librarian is feeling generous enough not to lock us in."

"After how many times she had to reprimand Sango, I have to agree with Noriko," says Parisa, now having materialized beside Haru and me. "We should probably get going."

"There you guys are!" says Sango as she runs up, our satchels and jackets slung over her shoulders, and her cheeks red from running. "We have to go, that librarian is threatening to call the police."

I roll my eyes as I accept my satchel and jacket from Sango. "Please, like the police would do anything to me."

"You're lucky," says Haru as he takes his jacket as well. "You'd be out in minutes while our parents would leave us to sit and think about what we had done."

"All we did was study," I argue as they head for the front of the library. I am about to join them when I look back at the book I had discarded earlier, the one that held the most information on L and his cases. Making sure no one is looking, I kneel down and slip it into my satchel before hurrying to catch up with my friends.

* * *

" _I'll read your name and see your face,_ " sings Sango, her voice loud and slightly off-pitch with the music coming from Haru's radio. " _A kiss away from your embrace—_ "

"Nori, please make Sango stop," pleads Parisa, cutting into Sango's high note. "She's only adding to the noise pollution currently coming from the radio."

Sango's cheeks turn a very mottled shade of red, and she hits Parisa in the shoulder. "Take that back, Pari!"

"Why?" says Parisa, rubbing her shoulder as she glares back at Sango. "It's not like I was fabricating a tale."

"Misa Amane is not noise pollution!" Sango all but shrieks and in the front seats, Haru and I cringe, the two of us barely resisting the urge to cover our ears at the terrible sound. In the past, we would cover our ears whenever she would start to yell, but we learned quickly that was a bad idea as it would direct her anger to us and prolong our suffering.

"Yes she is, she hasn't made anything that was tolerable in almost twenty years," sighs Parisa, seeming to be in a particularly confrontational mood tonight. This is hardly abnormal, especially when Sango is involved, she seems to revel in the opportunity to rile someone up, and it did not matter the topic.

Sango's face continues to turn that unusual shade of red. "She's been dead for almost twenty years, you jerk! She committed suicide after her fiancé was murdered."

This sounds relatively interesting and may be a potential way to defuse this situation. "Really? Why would she do that?"

"She was in love with him, duh Noriko," huffs Sango, her attention now squarely on me. "Are you saying that you wouldn't want to kill yourself if you lost the love of your life?"

"No," I reply a little bluntly, "I would rather live my life twice as well to make up for the person I lost." Besides, no one person should have that much power over another's heart.

I see Sango's grey eyes widen. "Noriko . . . That's so romantic! Oh my god, I didn't think you had it in you to say something so noteworthy! They should use that idea in a movie instead of two lovers dying together."

I bite back a smirk. "Well, I'm glad I've finally said something you approve of, San-San."

Sango squeezes my shoulder affectionately. "I knew you weren't completely cynical, Nori, unlike Parisa who will probably die alone."

"Shut up!" snaps Parisa before she strikes Sango on the side. "You're the one who'll die alone if you keep up your stupid game regarding—"

I watch in the rearview mirror as Sango practically tackles Parisa to cover her mouth before she reveals the promise she and I made in middle school. I have to admit, she made the right move, but she could have done it in a more civilized manner.

"Hey, no violence in the backseat," chides Haru hopelessly, there is not a point in trying to keep Sango and Parisa from fighting, they go at it so frequently it is almost socially acceptable. They ignore him as they continue to scuffle. "Fine, just don't spill any blood, it's a pain to clean up, and this is my dad's car."

The two of them continue their catfight and Haru, and I try to do our best and ignore them.

"So Nori, what are you doing on Friday?" asks Haru, his voice almost like a whisper.

My heart pounds in my chest and I have to remember how to breathe. This is it. "I'm not sure really, why? Did you have something in mind?"

Haru nods as he makes a turn towards my street. "I thought maybe a trip to Spaceland is on order, I mean we haven't been there in years."

I smile brightly this is my chance—

"That would be fantastic, Haru!" says Sango, pulling herself to the front, so her head is between Haru's seat and mine. "We need a break from all of this studying. Wouldn't you agree, Pari?"

"Yes, but maybe Spaceland isn't the ideal location—" she starts only to have Sango interrupt her again,

"So it's settled then," says Sango excitedly. "This is going to be so much fun! Hey, afterward we should have a sleepover at my house. Girls only. Sorry, Haru but I'll make it up to you by spending the whole trip to Spaceland with you, how does that sound?"

Haru lets out a nervous chuckle. "That's fine, San-San."

Sango continues to prattle on about our new plans for Friday and I continue to stare unseeing at the world outside the car; deaf to her words over the sound of my heart breaking.

Minutes later we pull up to my house, and I cannot be happier to be home. I gather up my things and give a false smile and cheery wave to the others before bolting out of the car and up to my front door. I try to ignore the sound of Sango getting out of the car and hopping into the front seat. The moment my hand touches the doorknob, I hear Haru's car pull away, and my heart sinks completely. I was close, so close to winning this little contest with Sango and she had to go and ruin it for me. I did expect this to be perfectly honest, but that does not make it any easier if anything it makes me hurt worse because I was foolish enough to hope.

I open the door and go inside, kicking my shoes off before putting my satchel and jacket on the hook beside the door. The house is dark, and no one else seems to be awake, but I hardly expect that anymore. I breeze into the kitchen by the pure memory of the house's layout alone and open the fridge, looking for something to eat before I head to bed for the night, and I spot a container of fried chicken. I pull it out and put it on the counter, closing the fridge door I go searching for a plate. I grab one from the cabinet and put a couple of small pieces of chicken on it before putting the rest back. Quickly I get a glass of water then grab the plate before sitting down at the table.

I pick up a piece of the cold chicken and take a bite, a little grisly, but I have had worse, and I am far too upset and hungry to care what it tastes like. As I eat I listen to the darkness, something is comforting about it, almost as if I belong here. Suddenly I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps; I tense for a moment before the nearest light is switched on and, after momentary blindness, I see my father standing in the hallway.

"Hey Dad," I say calmly. "Just getting in?"

My dad nods. "Yeah, I was just about to go to bed. Why are you eating in the dark?"

"Didn't want to scare the neighbors," I reply, and he chuckles. "Were you in your office?"

"Yeah, just putting away some paperwork," he says as he comes over and sits down across from me. "Are you okay, Nori? You seem a little off."

I shrug as I take another bite. I am not exactly sure how to explain this new development in my social life to my father, typically this would be a mother's place but my mother is not the kind of person you bring these problems to, at least I do not, and my father has a tendency to overreact. Still, I want someone to know; even if they do not offer me any sound advice at least, I will not have to bear this myself. "Haru might have tried to ask me out on the way home," I say softly, a little nervous about this.

Dad's eyebrow rises just slightly. "What do you mean 'he might have tried'?"

"Well, he mentioned going to Spaceland but . . . Sango interfered and made it a group outing, and she promised to spend the whole time with him," I reply, glancing up at him. "I don't know why I'm so upset, it's not like he asked me personally, and I mean he worded it in general terms, so it technically wasn't a date, but I should have known Sango wouldn't make this contest easy—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up," says Dad, putting up his hands. "Are you and Sango competing for Haru?"

I used the wrong wording. "No, not really. When we were thirteen, we both confessed that we had a crush on Haru, and to preserve our friendship, we agreed to let him decide which of us he wanted to date. So far he hasn't made a decision, but I don't think that's going to stop Sango."

Dad reaches across the table and puts his hand on mine. "I'm sorry, honey."

I look up and give him a little smile. "It's fine, Dad." I look down at my plate, unable to stomach what I am about to admit, "I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, after all, I'm not as romantic or flirty as Sango."

"And if he values someone like that, then he isn't worth your time," says Dad sternly and my head shoots up. "Nori, there's nothing wrong with your approach to relationships, you're very logical and weigh that against your emotions. If more people did that, then maybe more people would be saved from heartache and bad relationships." He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze his back. "Sango can be as flirtatious as she wants and do her makeup in the latest style and change her hair any way she wants but she'll never have your heart or spirit; two qualities that any man worth his salt will value over any woman's physical appearance."

I smile; Dad certainly has a way with words. "But it helps that I'm pretty, too, right?"

Dad laughs loudly. "It helps. You're the whole package, Noriko, and it'll take a special man to see the value in that. Just be patient, that special someone will come along, and you'll be much happier with them than you ever could be with Haru."

"Thanks, Dad," I say, feeling a little better than I had when I came home.

"Why don't you take Koji with you?" suggests Dad, now trying to ensure that I will have a good time regardless of the company. "He loves Spaceland, and he wants to hang out with you, all you've done lately is study."

I nod as I take a sip of water, bringing Koji would be a good idea, it would alleviate any perceived awkwardness and ensure that I would be distracted should Haru and Sango go off somewhere together. "You're right Dad, I should hang out with him more. I thought he wanted to play Ping-Pong though?"

"You can do both," says Dad with a shrug. "I'm sure he would love to have more than one day of having your undivided attention." Dad leans in conspiratorially, and I do the same, struggling not to laugh at how childish this is. "Between you and me, I'm pretty sure your mother would appreciate a day off from being his source of entertainment. Video games can only keep him occupied for so long."

I lean back and giggle, yes that sounds likely. "Okay but only if you promise to referee the game, my allowance can't take another hit like that one time."

Dad nods solemnly. A year or so ago, Koji and I played a perilous game of Ping-Pong as a way of settling an argument we were having. During the final match I went after a return hit and hit it too hard, I sent it sailing into our mother's treasured crystal bird from her brother, and it was knocked from its perch on the entertainment stand. The bird fell and shattered into a million tiny shards on the floor. Luckily Mom was in the United States at the time visiting her parents, so Koji and I spent two hours sweeping up the shards and attempting to put it back together before we gave up and called Dad. He was not happy, but he offered to help so we went to every mall we could looking for the exact bird. When we found it, I paid for half, and Dad paid for the other half, then we all swore we would never tell Mom what happened, and to this day we still have not.

"Definitely," says Dad, glancing around the room, likely for any sign of Mom coming or being awake. "Do you think you could help me go over some case files? We're looking at a money launderer, and I need a fresh pair of eyes."

"Sure," I say pleasantly. "How about Sunday?"

"Sounds good," says Dad before he steals one of my pieces of chicken.

* * *

Dad and I stay up another hour talking about some of his cases and my paper about L, he seems interested in all that I learned, and I am more than happy to oblige him, it is always fun to talk about something new and slightly mysterious. He gives me a few added details regarding how L operates, like how he does not meet with any police agency personally but instead sends a man named Watari and a particular laptop connected to his network to the organization. That is a detail briefly touched on in one article but not with this much detail. I write down his information on a napkin to use for later.

Once I am finished eating, I say goodnight to Dad and head for my room, my eyes drifting shut as I ascend the stairs to my room. This would have been a long day without the emotional upheaval, but that certainly does not help things, still talking with my dad did relieve some of my heartaches. When I reach my room, I close the door and manage to remove most of my uniform before falling into bed, the second my head hits the pillow, I am asleep and begin dreaming once again of the world of ancient atmosphere and grey surroundings.


	3. Eye Opening

The next morning, I rise before the sun and get ready before even my father is up; it is one of my favorite days of the week, and I plan on dragging it out for as long as I possibly can. Today is one of three days a week I practice tennis, it used to be five days, but with cram school and studying, my coach allowed me to cut back a couple of days and train in the mornings rather than the evenings. I wish I could go back to practicing more often; I often feel like I am falling behind the rest of the team.

Walking this early in the morning can be a little unnerving at times, and my parents have asked more than once that I wait for my father so he can drive me, but I rarely do, it overeats into my practice time. I would run to school if I could but between my racket, my slightly more cumbersome than the normal satchel, and my jacket it is too awkward. Instead, I settle for a brisk walk to warm up my muscles, my only defense against the cold temperatures of a city without the sun. Still, despite the darkness and slight unease, I feel when walking past certain alleys, I enjoy being out this early especially when I can watch the sun rise over the horizon.

When I arrive at the tennis courts, my coach is already there with her racket and a bucket full of tennis balls. She smiles when she sees me, and I wave to her with my racket before hurrying to the court's entrance. I deposit all but my racket on the nearby bench and go over to where she is standing, the moment I join her, we begin stretching. First, we stretch our legs for three minutes then we move to our arms and torsos; Coach says that tennis requires every part of the body, not just arms and legs, which is why we work our cores just as much as we do our extremities.

Once we are finished stretching, we begin jogging around the court, thanks to my slightly brisk walk my legs are used to the pacing, and I maintain Coach's speed easily.

"How's the studying going?" she asks, not sounding the slightest bit out of breath.

"Fine," I reply, glancing at her as I speak. "I'll be glad when the entrance exams are over."

Coach nods. "Remind me, what are your plans for school? Where are you going?"

"To-Oh," I say, adjusting my pace a little. "I plan on studying criminology, and hopefully after I graduate, I'll join the NPA and become a detective."

"Why a detective?" she asks curiously. "You could easily become a pro athlete."

I shrug slightly. "I don't know, I guess I've always wanted to help the world, and my dad is a detective, and he does a lot of good in his line of work, so I thought it would be a natural fit."

"Well, let me know if you change your mind," says Coach, panting just slightly. "I have a few connections and could easily get you into a professional league."

"Thanks," I say, and we continue our exercise in a comfortable silence.

* * *

I wish our practice games did not overlap with the time students begin to arrive for the day; it always ensures a crowd watching us; although I suspect some of the students get here this early so that they can watch the games. At least they are easy to ignore. It is 40-all in the fourth game of five, not a complete set of seven but more than enough for our practices. This will likely be the final game as I already won three; this one is just for fun, a chance for Coach and I to cut loose.

She serves the ball underhanded, aimed at the far corner but I see it coming and am already heading for it once the ball comes flying through the air. Based on its current angle, I can hit it and send it just beyond the net, so she will have to lunge for it if she is fast enough. My racket's netting meets the ball, and I send it flying for the spot I intended, making sure the angle I hit at will give it a downward trajectory. Coach sees it coming and races to hit it, diving for the save just like I expected. To my surprise, she manages to get her racket under the ball, and I run as fast as I can once I see it heading for over the net. I watch as it heads for just maybe a foot past the net and I run faster, my racket extended to try and catch it. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, the breeze whistling past me as I cut through the air in an attempt to get to the ball.

Racket and ball connect, I use as much force as I can to send it sailing back across the court before I hit the pavement and only when I hear the sound of chains rattling do I realize just how hard I hit it. I look to my left and see the ball sitting just in front of the chain-link fence that runs the perimeter of the courts; several students are now standing away from the fence, probably afraid they were going to get hit that time. I over and see Coach still on the ground from her last save, she is looking at me as if I am some tennis god.

"I guess I win," I say, at last, chuckling as I push myself up.

"I would say so," agrees Coach and she pushes herself up from the ground. "Matsuda, you really should consider a career in tennis, I have never seen someone make a save like that since Light Yagami."

This again. "Are you saying I'm as good as him?" I ask evenly, not wanting to give away my disdain at the compliment.

Coach shakes her head. "No, you're better."

I smile slightly before she and I shake hands as the dumbstruck students come out of their trance and break out into applause and cheers as if this is a real game rather than just practice. Without really looking I wave at the crowd as I head to the bench where I put my things down earlier, spinning my racket absentmindedly in my hand. I wonder why I even bother sometimes, everything I ever do ends up being compared to Light Yagami, and he has done everything first, so there is nothing left for me to achieve. I bet if I entered a food-eating contest in another country someone there would still compare me to him. I wish I could do something well that he never did before, it would be a nice change of pace to finally be recognized as me and have him not brought into it.

I grab my things and head inside the school, it is a bit earlier than I would usually be but the extra time allows me to change and mentally prepare myself for Sango's inevitable gloating. She is going to be insufferable now. I remember when I first met her back when we were eight, and I thought she was incredibly stuck up and intolerable then. I was new that year, and she was assigned as my partner for the first week. She took that position very seriously and even after the week was up, she refused to leave me alone. Our friendship developed from there, yet it was built on a shaky foundation. Our mutual crush on Haru only serves to emphasize that fact.

"Matsuda, excellent practice," says Mr. Irie when I enter the school, startling me from my thoughts. "You're starting to give that coach of yours a run for her money."

I force myself to smile. "Thank you, sir. I'm sure she was just going easy on me."

Mr. Irie shakes his head. "Hardly, especially during that last game. Your winning point is something I doubt many could make."

_'Except Light Yagami,'_  I finish mentally. "Again, thank you, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to change before the first bell."

I go to leave, but he steps in front of me, blocking my path.

"I hear you're researching L for your study of law class," he says casually, smiling at me but his eyes shine with an unfriendly gleam. "That's quite the topic, Matsuda, if you need any help I would be more than happy to assist."

"Thank you, but I have it covered," I say, sidestepping him and managing to get around him before he can stop me again. "See you in class, sir."

Quickly I rush for the girl's restroom before he can respond, desperate to escape my teacher and the strange situation. What the hell was that all about? How does he know what my paper is about? The assignment has only been out for a couple of weeks, and I am not the only one writing about L. My skin crawls as I recall the invasive way he looked at me as we spoke like he could see my very soul. I try to shake the feeling but it stays with me, hanging over me like a cloud and I feel like I need to take a scalding and very long shower so I can scrub his eyes from my body; unfortunately, that is not an option right now. Maybe after cram school tonight.

* * *

My first class of the day is home economics; a soft elective all students are required to take at some point during their final year. This morning above all others I am glad that I am not in the same class level as my friends. I do not think I could handle Sango this early in the day.

"Good morning, Matsuda," says a friend and teammate of mine, Rika Hatori. Most days she is my partner in class and today appears to be no exception, our supplies are already laid out beside each other on the workbench.

"Good morning, Hatori," I say with a small grin. "Thanks for setting up."

Rika smiles, her hazel eyes shimmering in the light. "No problem, Matsuda." She runs a hand through her short black hair. "I saw you at the tennis court this morning."

I nod as I look at the recipe for this morning's lesson. "Yeah, Coach and I were practicing. How did I look? Good enough to stay on the team?"

"Absolutely!" says Rika immediately and I glance over to see her blushing before she averts her gaze. "I mean you seem to be doing well, we'll have to wait and see until the game next week."

Damn, I almost forgot about that! "I guess so," I say as I hand her the recipe. "Looks like we're making strawberry Swiss roll cake. Would you like me to take care of the strawberries? I know you're allergic."

Rika nods as she reads the recipe. "Thank you, Matsuda, I appreciate it. I can get started on the dry ingredients."

I nod. "Sounds good. I'll help you decorate as well since we have to put cut strawberries on top."

"Great idea, Nori—Matsuda," Rika amends quickly, her cheeks a dark red color now. "I'll go get the flour."

I smile as she hurries away, her bob of jet-black hair nothing but a streak as she rushes as far away from me as she can get. She is always jumpy around me and always eager to be of assistance, something I believe stems from her slightly obvious crush on me. I say somewhat obvious because I am not sure whether or not she does have a crush on me; she may just be timid and is not used to having someone talk to her. Still, I am sure I am right; she only blushes whenever I address her, and she is quick to come to my aide.

With a small sigh, I head over to the refrigerator and grab two containers of strawberries like everyone else in the class is doing. I learned about Rika's strawberry allergy the hard way, I touched her arm after eating a couple of strawberries one day at practice, and she instantly broke out. I felt terrible for doing that to her.

Our friendship all the way back in our first year of high school, when we both joined the tennis team. At first, I thought she was going to be my rival, and possibly hated me, but after getting to know her on and off the court, I realized we share more in common than I thought. Her mother is from the United States, we both transferred schools several times when we were young, and our standards for ourselves are almost precisely the same. What I thought was rivalry was just Rika being Rika and pushing herself to the absolute limits of her potential.

I head over to the sink at the end of our workbench and hear something clatter on the floor. I look up to see a metal bowl toppled on the ground and Rika standing on a stool, incredibly red in the face. Her hazel eyes meet mine, and she turns even redder if it is possible. She jumps from the seat and grabs the bowl, immediately turning her back to me as she resumes her original mission of gathering the dry ingredients for the cake. I shake my head. She is a bit of a klutz when not on the court.

* * *

"Your cake is so pretty, Hatori," I say as we walk out of the home economics room. "I think it's the best."

Rika blushes. "It only looks that good because you decorated it, Matsuda."

I shake my head and smile. "I only placed the berries where you wanted them; the design is all yours."

"It looks nothing like yours," she says quietly, probably hoping I am not close enough to hear.

"Mine looks like our teacher's," I say with a shrug. "Yours is unique, and that's why I like it."

Rika glances at me, and I see the surprise in her eyes. It is not like I have not complimented her before, but apparently, she treats every compliment as the first.

I smile at her once again and return my gaze to the hallway in front of me. I notice Parisa, Sango, and Haru standing at Sango's locker. The three of them are talking and laughing, Sango in particular, and without really thinking I gravitate towards them my feet moving on their own. Sango stops laughing when she sees me coming closer, and she smiles brightly, waving at me like I have been gone for months.

"Nori!" she says happily, almost too happy. "We were just discussing our trip to Spaceland."

I fake the best smile I can as I stand beside Parisa and Haru. "Are we not going now?"

Sango shakes her head and lets out a neigh of a laugh. "Of course we're still going, silly, we're just changing the date. It's going to be Saturday rather than Friday. That means our sleepover is going to be on Friday night."

I nod not interested in the conversation. "I have a tennis game Saturday night."

The moment the words leave my mouth I realize I gave Sango precisely what she wanted.

"Aw, but then we won't have any fun," pouts Sango before she instantly becomes cheerful again. "I guess Haru, Pari and I will just have to make our fun after you leave."

Parisa shakes her head. "I can't stay late either, my parents have a PTA meeting to attend, and I'm expected to go as well. I guess it will just be you and Haru, Sango."

Sango looks like the cat that caught the canary and my heart sinks. She likely did this deliberately knowing Parisa, and I will have other arrangements. There are times when Sango is more devious than I give her credit for and this is one of those times.

"I hope you don't mind it just being us, Haru," says Sango sweetly as she looks up at Haru, who is already blushing a bright pink.

"Not at all," he says with a smile and without the slightest hint of hesitation. "I'm sure we'll all be able to hang out longer once the entrance exams are over."

"Absolutely!" says Sango cheerfully, looking at me with a malicious glint in her grey eyes. Yes, far more devious than I give her credit.

* * *

When I arrive home that night from cram school, I fall onto the couch and nearly smother myself with the decorative pillow. My day went as well as expected, which is to say it was complete and utter hell. Not only did I give my friend the opportunity to pursue the object of both our desires but I made the mistake of eating lunch with the tennis team rather than my friends, and according to what Parisa told me later, Sango was practically sitting in Haru's lap for the majority of the meal. I know I had to eat with the team, we are preparing for a big game after all, but I am still kicking myself for giving her two easy opportunities to be with Haru. I had intended to make this is as difficult as possible, and now I failed spectacularly.

"Hi Nori," says Koji as he comes in from the kitchen, a spatula full of chocolate cake batter in his hand. "How was cram school?"

"Fine," I say, my voice flat and half muffled by the pillow against my face. "How was swimming?"

"Good," he says, and I hear his footsteps drawing closer. "I had the fastest lap today, almost under six minutes!"

I smile and push myself up from the pillow. "That's fantastic, Koj. Is Mom making you a cake to celebrate?"

Koji nods happily. "Yeah, a triple chocolate cake!"

"Well, it is your favorite," I say with a chuckle as I move to lie back down against the cushion. "Did Mom say what we were having for dinner?"

"I think we're going out," replies Koji and I hear him start to lick the spatula.

I am about to ask where when I hear the front door open and I immediately sit up to see Dad walking in, briefcase in hand. This is the earliest he has been home in a while, not that I am one to talk of late. "I'm home!" he announces.

"Dad!" Koji and I both say as we scramble to greet him. I snicker when Koji sticks the whole rubber end of the spatula in his mouth.

"Hey kids!" says Dad cheerfully as he puts down his briefcase and kicks off his shoes.

I am the first to reach him, and I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Dad returns the embrace and nearly lifts me up in the process.

"Hey baby girl," he says quietly. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," I lie, probably unconvincingly. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful," he says as he releases me, only to be tackled by Koji. My brother giggles around the spatula from atop our dad's chest and Dad merely smiles. "Hey, buddy! Whoa, you might want to take the spatula out before you take my eye out or choke."

Koji nods and immediately pulls it out. It is now spotless of all traces of batter. "Mom's making a cake because of how I did in swimming!"

Dad grimaces slightly as he attempts to sit up, he likely landed on something wrong. "Don't leave me in suspense, how did you do?"

"I was the only one with a lap under six minutes!" says Koji proudly and Dad pulls him into a tight hug. "No more drowning, right Dad?"

"Right kiddo," says Dad and I hear the emotion in his voice.

When he was about two or three, Koji fell into a pool at a friend's house and nearly drowned. If it had not been for his friend's mom's quick thinking, Koji would not be standing with us today. When he was old enough—and my parents were no longer afraid of him going near water—Koji was enrolled in swimming lessons and has been excelling in it ever since.

"Welcome home, Touta," says Mom as she enters the hallway. Her eyes fall on me, and she frowns. "Noriko, I didn't realize that you weren't going to the library tonight."

"We didn't feel like going," I reply coolly. I find it easier to lie to my mother than my father. "Sorry I didn't let you know sooner."

Mom shrugs. "It's fine."

Dad and Koji stand back up, and Koji runs straight to Mom, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning against her in a warm embrace. I remember trying to do that once when I was younger, and she pushed me away.

"I told Dad about swimming," says Koji, looking up at Mom for approval before looking back at Dad. "I think he's proud of me."

"Of course I'm proud of you, Koji," says Dad with a slight sigh. "This is a huge accomplishment for you, why wouldn't I be proud?"

Koji shrugs. "Because it's not as impressive as Nori's test scores."

Dad looks at me, and I look at Koji, wondering how in hell he got his hands on my test scores and why my parents did not know about them before now.

"What was your score?" asks Dad, sounding nervous and excited.

"She got a perfect score," replies Koji when I say nothing and Dad instantly grabs me in a tight hug. I return it although not as exuberantly.

"When did the scores come out?" he asks happily.

I glance at the wall across from me and frown slightly. "Yesterday."

Dad tenses for a moment. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I give a weak shrug. I can tell it hurt him that I said nothing yesterday. "I guess I forgot once we started talking." I decided to omit the part about leaving the paper on the counter in the kitchen.

Dad pulls away and kisses my forehead. Quite the feat considering I am almost two inches taller than he is. "I guess you can go a little easier on the studying."

"Yeah and be home sooner!" says Koji excitedly and then his dark blue eyes sparkle. "You can share my cake since we both did well."

I immediately shake my head. "No way, that's your cake."

Koji pouts, and I am slightly reminded of Sango earlier today. "C'mon, Nori, you deserve it too. Heck, Dad deserves it because he got home early for once!"

Dad chuckles, and Mom rolls her eyes.

"And we're going out anyway, so it can be about all of us!" continues Koji, oblivious to our parents' differing reactions.

"That sounds great," says Dad cheerily, smiling at the three of us. "A night out to celebrate the whole family."

I glance at Mom, and sure enough, a funny look is on her face the moment Dad says the word 'family.' She always gets a strange look on her face whenever someone calls us a family, even though we are, and it is especially present whenever they attend any events that involve only me. When they do visit, that is. There is always something that prevents my entire family from coming, like a double-booked day, Dad is out of town, Mom is doing something with her friends, or they just forget. I can count on one hand the number of times they all attended together, the rest of the time it is usually only Dad or no one.

"We can do another one on Saturday," I say as we begin putting on our shoes and jackets. "You know, after my game."

"Oh no, is that this Saturday?" says Mom, going for forgetful but it sounds fake. "I'm sorry, Noriko but I have a parents' meeting at Koji's school that evening and Koji has swim practice." She looks at Dad. "Dear, do you think you could take him? The meeting starts at four thirty, and his practice starts at five."

Dad nods. "Sure, I can do that right after I pick the kids up from Spaceland. Nori, what time is your game?"

I look at Mom, and she seems almost to dare me to say it is after Koji's swim lesson. I knew this would happen. "It's at six and should end by eight, but it's at a rival school, so I have to be at my school by four thirty." I then look at Dad and smile. "Don't worry about going; it's not that big of a deal." I neglect to mention that it is the opening match of the championship tournament.

Dad seems uneasy about the whole idea of missing most if not all of my game, but he is quick to hide it. "Alright Nori, if you're sure." He then looks at Mom, and she looks away. "We should probably get going before Koji's stomach decides to attack us."

I chuckle, and Koji balks.

"It can't escape!" says Koji loudly as he rushes to finish putting on his shoes. "Nori already showed me that my stomach couldn't get out of me."

Dad looks at me with feigned annoyance. "Nori, you can't disprove everything I say. Otherwise, I can't tease Koji."

I laugh as I slip my jacket on. "Don't worry Dad; I still haven't disproven the tooth fairy threat."

"Good, that's my best one," says Dad as Koji shudders. "Alright, get in the car! We're having noodles tonight!"

Koji and I cheer as he opens the door and Koji instantly races out of the house, chanting 'noodles' over and over again on his way to the car. I head out of the door and am about to close it when I notice the look that passes between my parents. It is not one I see often but I have seen it before and it usually occurs right before they have an argument. I close the door and hurriedly head for the car, praying that whatever they are going to fight about is not about me, although that prayer is rarely answered.

* * *

Dinner went without any indication of a brewing argument between my parents, in fact, they seemed quite happy, and Dad even got Mom to laugh a few times at his terrible jokes. Seeing her laugh and Dad being relaxed enough to make jokes, something he does not do when he is tense, eased me into the idea that they might not argue.

Koji and I are told to go to bed shortly after we arrive at home, both of us are too full for cake anyway. My darling little brother rubs his belly against a stomachache, and I cannot help but chuckle, he was the one who wanted three bowls of noodles so he can only blame himself. We say goodnight to our parents, Dad kisses my cheek and congratulates me on my scores again before I go to attempt to get a warm embrace from my mother. She puts her hands on my shoulders, and I do the same to her, she pulls me in for a moment and then quickly pushes me away.

I give her a strained smile and head for the stairs. I hear running and turn back to watch as Koji jumps into Mom's arms. He hugs her so tightly she almost falls over.

He lets go enough for her to steady herself. "Good night, Mom!" he says brightly, barely stifling a yawn. "I love you!"

"I love you, too, Koji Bear," says Mom kindly, slowly ruffling his hair before she bends down to kiss the top of his head. "Now go to bed, you've had a long day."

"Okay," says Koji as he yawns again, this time he does not stifle it. "Night, Dad. Love you."

"Night, buddy," says Dad as he kneels down to kiss Koji's cheek. "I love you, too."

I stand on the stairs watching them. They interact so effortlessly, as if they were always meant to be together and I am an intruder in their lives. Until Koji was born, I always thought that it was normal for mothers to be cold to their children and for fathers to look at their child mournfully whenever they thought they were not looking. The moment Koji came into our lives, I realized how mistaken I was back then. During the last few years, I acquired a few hypotheses as to why I am treated differently, none of which are particularly pleasant.

"Good night," I say as I go upstairs, not even waiting for a reply. I go straight to my bedroom and shut the door.

I lean against the door and slide slowly to the floor, I land with a soft thud, and I draw my knees up, hugging them tightly as I drop my head down. Tears roll steadily down my cheeks and land in my lap as they drop. I cannot count the number of times I have cried since I realized something is wrong with me, something that prevents my parents from loving me as wholly as they do Koji. These thoughts plagued me when I was seven, and they torment me now at seventeen, like a phantom pain. Part of me is missing, and while I can ignore it for stretches of time, after a point, I have to acknowledge that it is gone and likely irrecoverable.

"What's wrong with me?" I whisper to the darkness as my tears renew.

"I hope . . . happy, Raku," I hear Dad say through the door.

My head shoots up, and I quickly wipe away my tears, curious to hear what this is about. I thought they were not going to fight tonight.

"What . . . talking about, Touta?" asks Mom, her voice slightly muffled.

I stand up and open the door as quietly as I can, holding my breath for a moment when I do not hear anyone say anything afterward.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," says Dad sternly and I open the door just a little bit further.

"If you're referring to  _her_ , then yes, I do know what you're talking about," I hear Mom say, her voice a little distant, which means she is likely in the kitchen. I do not like the way she enunciates 'her.'

"Why do you always do this, Raku?" asks Dad, sounding exasperated. "You've never once gone to any of her games or recitals or anything. I'm always the one who goes, if you haven't booked me to do something else, that is."

"This wasn't what we signed on for," says Mom, sounding angry. "When we agreed to take her, we didn't agree to any of this other crap."

Take her.

"Yes we did," argues Dad. "We agreed to be her parents, and being parents means being there for our child."

Mom lets out a hideous laugh. "Only she isn't our child, now is she?"

My heart freezes, and the room starts to spin.  _'What does she mean I am not their child?'_  I wonder as my body goes numb.  _'Does that mean I was right? Oh god, please let me be wrong.'_

"How could I forget?" snaps Dad. "You remind me every chance you get! God, Raku, you can't even fake it anymore."

"I never wanted to do it in the first place!" counters Mom. "I never wanted to take her, but you insisted! Her mother was perfectly capable of taking care of her! She came around here often enough after she was born."

"No she wasn't," says Dad harshly although there is a trace of sadness in his tone. "She was never going to be able to take care of Nori, never."

"And whose fault is that?" sneers Mom. "It sure as hell wasn't mine."

"It wasn't mine either!" counters Dad.

"You were the one who told her!" accuses Mom bitterly. "Not to mention you were the one who killed him."

"It's not like I pushed her off that building," argues Dad.

"I never said you did," says Mom, sounding surprisingly calm. "I'm just pointing out that you were the cause of the chain of events that ended with Noriko in our laps."

"No, he did that!" shouts Dad, likely forgetting himself in his frustration. "He's the reason for all of this! Not me, not you, not Nori or her but him. All of this is his fault: what happened to her, what happened to Raye, what happened to Naomi, what happened to the Chief. It's all his fault!"

Silence follows his outburst, and after a few minutes I do not hear anything else, but I cannot move to close the door. I cannot do anything except repeat their words over and over again in my head and dissect every single one until I am sure of their meaning. I am adopted, as I always suspected. My adopted father is responsible for my biological father's death. My adopted father blames a great deal on my biological father. My biological father's death triggered my biological mother to commit suicide sometime after I was born by jumping from a building.

Everything I am is a lie.


	4. Encounters

The week passes way too quickly for my taste and before I know it, I am getting into Sango’s mother’s car after cram school and driving towards her house. This week has been hell for me and it seems determined to linger. First my teacher rejects my first draft of my essay on L, saying it is not factual enough and to find more on him; considering there is literally next to nothing on the detective besides his cases, this is asking a great deal of me. Then I badly sprained my wrist during tennis practice and have had to take it easy ever since, which means very little practice before the first tournament match tomorrow. I have had to endure Sango and Haru, something that greatly tested my patience and resolve to still maintain our friendship despite her very obvious attempts to make me jealous and angry. On top of all that, I still have not confronted my parents about what they revealed during their last fight and I still do not know how to process this information.

I must have done something absolutely terrible in a past life.

“Momma, play my Misa CD,” says Sango from the back of the car just moments after we pull away.

I look at her mother and hear the slight sigh that escapes her lips. It is nice to know that even her mother cannot stand Misa Amane.

“Honey, can’t we just enjoy each other’s conversation?” her mother asks nervously. “Do we really need music?”

While it is admirable that her mother puts up a fight against her daughter, Parisa and I know from experience that it is pointless and will only result in something worse. The only person who can placate her is I but I am rarely able to succeed outside of school and other public places. When she is at home or with her parents, she feels entitled to disregard any sense of decorum in favor of getting her way.

“No!” shrieks Sango so loudly that I swear the car windows shake a little. “My friends and I want to listen to Misa Amane! Right?!”

I say nothing and Parisa remains incredibly quiet. When not in public, Sango acts like a small child and spoiled brat. I suddenly feel sorry for Haru while simultaneously feeling delightfully wicked at the thought of him dealing with her like this more often than we do. It seems justice will be exacted after all.

“Sango, please, not today,” pleads her mother despite everyone knowing Sango will not cooperate or calm down. “I’m getting a headache.”

“You always have a headache!” shouts Sango bitterly and now I am getting a headache. “Put my CD in!”

Her mother shoots me an apologetic look before she turns on the radio and almost immediately Misa Amane’s voice comes out of the speakers. Sango begins singing the moment the music starts and Parisa, her mother, and I all try our best to cover our ears against her terrible voice. This is going to be a very long night.

* * *

 

Mercifully we survive the drive to Sango’s house, although I suspect all but her now have a splitting headache thanks to her singing and Misa Amane’s music. When we park, I am the first to jump out of the car, Parisa close on my heels, and we race into the house. The short reprieve will only last until Sango drags us into her room and then blasts Misa Amane until dinner, which will not be for a couple of hours at least. The two of us head immediately into the downstairs bathroom and search for the large bottle of aspirin we know is always kept in stock.

“God, I thought that would never end,” I say quietly as I bring down the bottle, opening it to extract two small white pills that will assist in making this evening tolerable. I pop them into my mouth as I pass the bottle to Parisa.

“Her mom needs to stop being so spineless,” sighs Parisa as she takes out a handful of pills. I cock an eyebrow and she shrugs. “It’s for later, in case we can’t get away.”

I nod as she takes two from the pile before putting the rest in her pocket. We really should invest in our own industrial sized bottle one of these days, especially me.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” says Parisa after she swallows her pills.

“About what?” I ask, knowing full well what she is about to say.

“Haru,” she says just as I expected. “Sango should have honored your promise, but I guess she can’t stand the idea of losing, especially to you.”

I shrug as I put the bottle away. “It’s fine, if she wants to destroy a nine year friendship over a boy, that’s her problem.”

Parisa smirked. “And you wouldn’t have?”

I shake my head. “No, and besides, our friendship was going to be ruined either way. If Haru picked me, Sango would’ve pitched a fit and left, and now she’s going to be smug about it and try to drive me away. I just can’t believe it took all of this for Haru to finally pick.”

“I thought he was going to come out, to be honest,” says Parisa and my eyes widen. “What? He never showed interest in females, even you and Sango, so I thought he was going to end up with a male.”

“I guess you have a point,” I say slowly, wondering how far off the mark she really is. “Anyway, I can’t dwell on it too much, I have my game tomorrow night. It’s too bad you can’t come.”

Parisa nods. “I know, I wish I could. It’s so much fun to watch you play, especially when the whole school starts chanting your name. There’s something magical about it.”

I smile uneasily. Parisa has a tendency to sound far too formal and say things awkwardly, and this is definitely one of those times. “Thanks.”

A loud and obnoxious banging erupts from the door. I am so glad Parisa closed it when we came in.

“What are you two doing?!” demands Sango, still banging on the door. “Hurry up! I want to go to my room. I’m going to give you guys makeovers!”

Parisa and I look at each other worriedly. Sango’s idea of a makeover usually involves Misa Amane and the characters from her music videos or movies. The last time this happened, we both had glitter in our hair for days.

“Come on!” shouts Sango and we reluctantly open the door.

“Finally,” she says when she sees us and immediately grabs onto our wrists. “I thought you guys escaped through the window or something.”

 _‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’_ I wonder longingly as Sango more or less drags us through the house to the staircase. She releases our wrists but prevents us from going backwards so we are forced to climb the thirteen steps up to the second floor; coincidentally, thirteen is the same number of steps prisoners in the United States climbed on their way to the gallows. Sango follows us closely and silently directs us to her bedroom, when we enter I see our things are already there. The door slams closed and Parisa and I mourn our freedom.

“Guess what?” says Sango excitedly as she flounces past us and onto her pink and white four-poster bed. She looks at us eagerly and all we can do is nod in response as we take our seats on the pink, glittery beanbag chairs on the floor in front of her bed.

“I got a new Misa CD!” she announces like it is the best thing in the world.

I look at Parisa who merely shrugs.

“I thought she was dead,” I say slowly, unsure of how exactly Sango is going to react.

Sango nods. “Of course she is, but that doesn’t mean I own everything she ever made. They only made a few thousand copies of her final album and I’ve been trying for years to get my hands on it.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a CD case. It is all black except for silver lettering across the top that reads _My Death Note_. “I won it last week in an online auction, can you believe my luck?”

“Not at all,” Parisa and I say in unison.

“Apparently this was her saddest album and most meaningful,” continues Sango, gazing longingly at the CD. “It’s rumored to be about her murdered fiancé and her dead baby.”

“Dead baby?” I repeat and Sango nods.

“They say Misa was pregnant and lost the baby when she heard the news of her fiancé’s death,” explains Sango, sounding like she is regaling a fascinating story rather than relaying someone’s tragic history. “I’ve heard the last song on the album is about them both.”

This album has surprising depth considering it is by a pop idol like Misa Amane. “Play it,” I say before I can stop myself. Parisa glares at me but I ignore it, my curiosity is officially piqued.

Sango smiles widely. “I had a feeling you’d like this, Nori. After we listen and I give you a makeover, I’ll show you the interview she gave about the album. It’s so sad. It’s her last public appearance before she died.”

“How did she die?” I ask quietly, glancing over to see Parisa’s glare intensified.

“She threw herself off of a building,” replies Sango nonchalantly and I feel the color leech from my face. “And on Valentine’s Day no less, how romantic and tragic.”

I sit back further in the beanbag and make a poor attempt to calm my pounding heart. Misa Amane died the same way my biological mother did and they both killed themselves over a lost love. Maybe she is—no, there is no way there is a connection between us, after all her baby died and I obviously lived. Still . . .

“Who am I going to be this time?” I say, the words tripping out of my mouth easier than I thought they would. I can feel Parisa boring holes into my head. I hardly care; I am just desperate to stop thinking about my secret origins.

“I think I’ll make you up like Misa,” says Sango as she leans over and opens the top of her CD player by her bedside. “Parisa, I’ll make you up like her character in that movie with Hideki Ryuga, you know the angel.”

“Goodie,” says Parisa flatly as she turns away from me. “Sango, why do you insist on putting us through this hell every time we come over to your house? Can’t we just study instead?”

Sango shakes her head and looks aghast, like Parisa uttered a horrific swear word. “Absolutely not! This is our night off remember? No studying and we’re only going to have fun.”

“More like spend an evening in Hell’s waiting room,” mumbles Parisa and I cannot agree more but I bite my tongue, tonight is not the night to antagonize Sango, mostly because I cannot easily escape.

“This is going to be fun,” gushes Sango as the music starts, the sad and lonely melody of a single violin begins to play. “Nori, get my makeup kit. Parisa, go find costumes in the closet. You guys are going to look fantastic when I’m done with you!”

* * *

 

Powder brushes across my cheek and gets up my nose. I struggle mightily against sneezing as another wave of it passes along my other cheek. I am praying that I do not look like some clown just because Sango is interested in humiliating me.

“Ow uh onger?” I ask through slightly open lips. They are covered in lipstick and I do not want to smudge it even slightly and risk adding to my time under Sango’s control.

“I’m almost done,” says Sango for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. “I want to get the contouring right. I’m really impressed Nori, you have the right cheekbones for this look.”

I cannot tell whether to be insulted or pleased with her observation.

“Pari, hand me my setting spray,” orders Sango as she does another line down my cheek with her blush brush. My eyes go wide and she giggles. “I’m not about to let this masterpiece go to waste too soon, Nori. I’ve never done a better job and I want to document this.”

 _‘Oh god, I probably look terrible,’_ I think worriedly as she accepts the spray from Parisa. I glance at Parisa and silently beg her to tell me how I look but my only response is a strange expression.

Cold mist hits my face and I jump in surprise causing Sango to snicker as she continues her assault with her spray. Four more sprays and she steps away, likely reaching for her handheld mirror and phone so she can capture my humiliation and my reaction all in one go. She hands me the mirror and with a trembling hand I bring it up so I can see myself. I nearly drop it when I see my reflection; I do a double take just to make sure I am actually seeing myself.

I look amazing. My light brown hair is down, rather than up like it usually is and there are two small pigtails near a part down the middle. Sango covered my face in some type of foundation and powder to give my skin a flawless appearance. My cheeks are a dainty pale pink as are my lips and my eyes are a dramatic combination of gold and brown colors. I look from the mirror to Sango who immediately snaps a picture with her phone and grins widely.

“I knew you would look amazing!” she says, sounding happy. “Now it’s Pari’s turn! Switch places with Nori, Pari and I’ll make you look this good.”

Parisa, obviously annoyed with the idea, glowers at me as I get up from Sango’s vanity stool. Muttering under her breath she takes my place and I wander off to the closet to find something to wear, knowing full well that Sango will expect me to dress up. Parisa is already dressed in a replica of the angel costume Misa Amane wore in a movie over twenty years ago, so I go searching in the walk-in closet for something that looks like it came off a modeling shoot.

“Quit fidgeting, Pari or you’ll smudge your eyeliner,” chides Sango sharply and I shake my head. Parisa should know by now not to argue or fight against what Sango wants, otherwise it will only end in disaster. The more I think about it, the more I wonder why we are even friends with her in the first place.

“I don’t want to do this,” huffs Parisa. “And I don’t know why Noriko cooperated either, you two aren’t exactly friends anymore.”

It takes all of my self-control not to snap at Parisa or make any sudden movements. She is doing this deliberately, trying to end our sleepover before it can truly begin because she does not want to be subjected to Sango’s games and whims. I can hardly blame her but this is a dirty move.

“Of course we’re still friends,” says Sango in a shrill voice, an indication that she is lying through her teeth. “Things will just be different now because I’m with Haru and Nori isn’t.”

“But you’ve been trying to push her away all week,” counters Parisa and I bury myself deeper in the closet. They probably think I cannot hear them, like my adoptive parents earlier in the week, but I can hear them all the same. “I saw those looks you gave her and the way you addressed her, not to mention you changed the date of our Spaceland trip because you knew Nori had a tennis game.”

I hear Sango click her tongue as if addressing a stubborn child. “Now Pari, I know you’re Noriko’s friend but you’re just going to have to face facts that Haru picked me and not Nori—”

“Only because you cheated!” snaps Parisa. “You knew Haru was going to pick Nori in the end, so you manipulated everything so it would work out in your favor. You made the Spaceland trip your excuse to break your promise and seduce Haru. Now you’re going to finish your little game tomorrow because you can’t stand to lose.”

The tension and silence in the room is almost deafening. Parisa always disliked Sango but I did not think she would go this far to completely destroy our little group. This would have happened eventually, it was inevitable given the changes coming to our lives, but it seems Parisa just sped up the process.

“I think you should leave,” says Sango coldly. “And I don’t want to see you tomorrow either.”

“Fine,” says Parisa, sounding relieved as I hear her get up from the stool. I then hear her go over to her bag and pick it up.

“You can send me the dress back later,” says Sango, her tone still icy. “Get out.”

The door opens and closes, signaling that Parisa is gone and never going to come back. I remain in the closet, waiting for something or someone to tell me to get out as well.

“Nori,” says Sango without even coming over. She sounds sad and defeated, no longer cold and defensive. “You can go too if you want.”

“And if I don’t?” I ask, almost biting my tongue after the words leave my mouth. What am I saying? I should leave. She more or less admitted that she doesn’t value my friendship in any respect and she chased out my friend over accusing her of the truth. Still, she sounds so . . . so sad, and in her shoes I would hate to be left alone.

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought,” says Sango, her voice thick and moments later I hear her bathroom door slam shut.

I stay in the closet for a few more seconds, waiting to see if Sango stays in her bathroom before I tentatively venture out. I am now definitely alone, something I am grateful for but at the same time I am disappointed, I wish we were able to stay civil with each other for at least a few more weeks and left on better terms. That cannot be helped now I suppose.

Slowly I venture out of the closet and confirm that Sango is indeed no longer in the immediate room, so I head over to my overnight bag and school satchel. I gather them up and am about to leave when I hear the CD player go to a new song. The damn thing is on repeat so Sango can enjoy many hours of Misa Amane without a break, but I do not recall hearing this particular song. It starts off with an acoustic guitar for the first few notes, then Misa begins singing and there is something haunting in the opening bars. I can hardly believe that I missed this the first few times the CD played.

“People always talk about it

I have always lived without it

Never understood its magic spell.

 

It can take your breath away or

So that’s what the poets say

Guess they outta know but who can tell?

 

Never believed that anything could feel this true

Don’t see it coming till it’s standing right in front of you.

 

When love comes

It takes you by surprise

You’ll see things

Through someone else’s eyes.

 

When love comes

You’ll never be the same

It scares you

Still you hope it stays forever.

When love comes

 

Finally there’s someone to cry for

Someone I will gladly die for

Someone who is all the way alive.

 

Can’t believe the peace I’m feeling

Almost like it can’t be real

Even if I die, love will survive.

 

Funny the things the human heart will put you through

Don’t see it coming till it’s standing right in front of you.

When love comes

 

It catches you off guard

So easy, don’t notice it’s so hard.

 

When love comes

It happens way too fast

You’ll hope you make the moment last forever

When love comes

 

You’re the only part of me I’m certain will live on

All I ask of you is to remember love is never gone.”

I recall what Sango said, about Misa’s baby dying the moment she found out about her love’s murder. In all honesty, this seems more like a tribute for the lost baby rather than the lost love, maybe it is and people only believe it is about her fiancé as well. That still does not answer the question as to why she would include a line like this in her song.

“You’re the only part of me I’m certain will live on,” I repeat slowly, carefully, as if the words are made of thin glass and will shatter at the wrong pronunciation.

Something suddenly clicks in my mind and it sends a cold chill down my spine. Misa’s baby never died! Why write that lyric if the child died? It would not make sense unless the baby is not in fact dead and she wrote this as a tribute to that child and the love she felt for it.

“When love comes

Don’t let it slip away

Just hold on

And treasure everyday.

 

When love comes

It struggles to belong

Don’t fight it

Share a kiss and then surrender

When love comes.

 

When love comes.”

I stand there in the middle of Sango’s room as the song ends, staring at the CD player as it begins the first song on the CD, almost willing it to play the previous song again. Misa Amane is likely not my biological mother, even if her death and my mother’s death have similar means and motives, but that song is the closest I can come to understanding a mother’s genuine and undying love for their child. Part of me, a small and sentimental part, wishes that this song is indeed about me and written by a mother who cared about me at some point in my life. I guess I will have to resort to taking the song and pretending it is about me instead of being about some other child that never knew its mother either.

* * *

 

The walk home is quiet. There are a few people out walking the sidewalks of Sango’s neighborhood but not many, not as many as I usually see. I glance at my cellphone, it is almost ten o’clock at night and most reasonable people are either at home or eating a late dinner. I wish there is somewhere else I can go besides home, I really do not want to deal with my parents right now. I would rather not call them my “parents” but until they come up for a more acceptable term for “liars” I am stuck with it.

“Damn little lady, I’ve never seen you before,” says a greasy voice and I turn to see a man standing beside a motorcycle, three more are standing with him. He takes a few steps towards me. “You new in town?”

 _‘What the—oh no!’_ I think as I reach up and touch my cheek. The familiar feel of Sango’s lightweight foundation and powder greets me. It seems my makeover is attention grabbing.

“If you’re new, I could show you around,” continues the man, his voice becoming greasier with each word.

I shake my head as fear slowly creeps up on me. “No, I know exactly where I’m going. Thank you.”

The man, who is perhaps three inches shorter than me, frowns. He runs a hand through his slimy black hair and then touches the thin mustache on his upper lip. “I could give you a ride, I mean, it’s not safe for such a pretty girl to be wandering around at night.”

 _‘It’s only unsafe because of scum like you,’_ I think bitterly as I screw up what courage I still possess. I was taught what to do in these situations, but being in it is a far cry from a controlled scenario at the police academy. “I already said no,” I say, standing my ground and making sure there is not any room for interpretation in my words. “I don’t need or want your help, now leave me alone.”

The man’s frown becomes a scowl and he takes a step towards me so I back up. I might be taller than him but he is thicker than me, there is no conceivable way for me to fight him and come out the victor. My only option is to run, fast and far and to someplace safe.

“I don’t remember giving you a choice,” snarls the man before he lunges and I throw myself out of his way. He lands flat on the pavement and I smirk before taking off in the opposite direction, heading towards home. I run faster than I ever have in my life and I am suddenly grateful for all of the laps Coach insisted on during our practices. Without them, my endurance would surely be shot by now.

In the distance I hear motorcycles starting up and my heart races. I had the advantage back there, I was not cornered and could get away, but now I am at a disadvantage. I cannot outrun a motorcycle and unless I find someplace to hide, I am as good as caught.

I round a nearby corner and see a small family restaurant just across the street. It is as good a place as any to try and hide. With the sound of engines in my ear, I run as fast as my legs will go and barrel through the front door. I barely manage to hide myself under a nearby table before I hear the roar of the motorcycles streaking down the street. I can hear their voices through the window close by and my heart pounds harder, they are so near I can easily imagine them bursting through the door and dragging me away.

When the engine noises finally fade away, I allow myself a moment to breathe and calm down before I notice the few patrons and staff of the restaurant watching me. Shame and embarrassment flood my face, I only now realize that I burst in here like a madwoman and hid without any explanation or apology to anyone. A woman wearing a white apron over her clothes from the front counter approaches me; she seems concerned and a little wary.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks gently as she kneels in front of me, her voice is like a summer breeze. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m sorry,” I suddenly blurt out before I can stop myself. “I was only trying to get away from . . .” I trail off, unable to finish the sentence or thought. It all seems so surreal.

The woman smiles at me, her green eyes twinkling in the dim light. “You were right to come here, dear. Now, how about I get you something to eat while you go freshen up?”

I look up at her, she is speaking to me so kindly and sounds genuinely concerned for me. I wonder how often this sort of thing happens in her restaurant. “Thank you, ma’am,” I say softly as I go to stand, only to find that my legs are now jelly and I slide back down to the floor.

The woman offers me her hand and I accept, holding it a little tighter than I normally would as I attempt to stand back up. This time I manage to remain standing and I survey the room as she leads me to the washroom. There are four other patrons, two men and two women sitting at small tables eating bowls of freshly cooked meat and vegetables, a man in an apron similar to this woman’s standing behind the counter at a stove, and a boy about my age cleaning dishes at a back sink. His eyes are green like his mother’s but they are brighter and richer in color.

“Ritsu, Yoshito, please prepare some tea and a bowl for this young lady,” says the woman with the authority only possessed by a wife and mother. The two men behind the counter nod and begin carrying out her orders. The woman squeezes my hand as she pushes open the door to the women’s washroom; she then gently sits me down on a stool by the door. “Rest for a moment, dear, I’ll be right back.”

I do not want the woman to leave, with her my resolve might flee as well and I will be reduced to nothing more than a whimpering mess. The more the adrenaline subsides, the more shaken I become, and I am afraid that I will shake apart completely.

“Don’t worry,” says the woman calmly as if reading my thoughts. She cups my cheek and gently caresses it. “No one can get you in here, you’re completely safe.”

I nod and without another word, she leaves and I sit on the stool trying to take as many deep breaths as my shivering body will permit, which is not many. I can slowly feel myself slipping into panic when someone knocks on the door. “Come in,” I manage hoping my voice does not sound as scared as I believe.

The door opens and standing there is the boy with impossibly green eyes. He seems concerned and curious when he sees me. “Sorry to disturb you,” he says kindly and a little stiffly, as if he is unused to talking to girls. “My mom just wanted to know if you like tea or coffee.”

“Tea,” I reply, giving him a fleeting smile. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

The teen’s brown eyebrow arches just slightly. “For what? You were in trouble. You needed a safe haven. It’s only logical that you’d go to a restaurant.”

The tension in my shoulders eases up just slightly. “Still, I should’ve at least said something before ducking under your table.”

“Maybe but you’d be surprised how many people end up under our tables,” says the boy with a cheeky smile, “and none of them ever apologize or tell us that they’re going to.”

The smile I give him feels slightly more genuine. “I’m Noriko, and I’m sorry for taking cover under your table.”

“I’m Ritsu,” says Ritsu with a shy grin and his cheeks turn a dusty pink as he runs a hand through his chestnut brown hair. Yes, if I had to wager, I would say he has little to no experience with girls. Somehow, I find that endearing and a little sad; he is so handsome, I can hardly imagine why he has trouble talking to the opposite sex.

“Ritsu, quit bothering the girl,” says the woman sternly as she comes into view over Ritsu’s shoulder. “Did you find out what drink she wants?”

Ritsu nods and his cheeks turn a darker pink as he turns to face his mother. “Sorry, Mom, I was just checking on her.”

The stern look on the woman’s face softens and she pats his cheek affectionately. “Alright, well I can’t fault you there. Now go fix up her drink and we’ll be out in a few minutes. How’s her meal coming?”

“Dad was working on the beef last time I checked,” replies Ritsu and then he glances at me. “Beef’s okay with you, right?”

I nod and he seems relieved.

“Now hurry along,” says his mother and Ritsu immediately moves away from the door. She enters and then closes the door behind her. I notice she is holding a damp cloth and some wipes. When she sees me staring at the items she smiles. “I thought you’d feel better if you washed up a little, I know I always feel better after I wash my face, it’s a little like washing a bad day away.”

I smile nervously as I accept the wipes from her and immediately tear into the package. I begin scrubbing my face with one.

“I’m Mei Saga,” says the woman as she sits down on the floor in front of me.

“I’m Noriko,” I offer as I discard one wipe before picking up another, leaving off my family name intentionally. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Mei waves off my thanks with a flick of her hand. “There’s no need to thank me for doing the right thing, Noriko.” She tucks a piece of auburn hair behind her ear and sighs heavily. “What were you doing when those men went after you?”

“Walking,” I reply somewhat bitterly. “I had a falling out with a friend and didn’t know where to go, so I just started walking.”

Mei nods as she passes the cloth from one hand to another. “I see. It always amazes me what disgusting creatures lurk in the shadows of this world.”

“I’m starting to agree,” I say as I vigorously scrub my cheek. I have a feeling my makeup is what attracted their attention and I am more than happy to be rid of it.

“You didn’t do anything to provoke them,” says Mei softly as she looks up at my cheek, likely red from how hard I am rubbing it. “They would’ve preyed on you even if you weren’t wearing makeup.”

I pause in my cleaning for a moment. Something tells me this is not the first time Mei has dealt with women who escaped possible harm. “That’s not exactly comforting,” I say as I resume. “I’m sorry for disturbing you and your family, Mrs. Saga.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Mei kindly, her green eyes warming my bruised soul. “I’m just glad you’re safe and had enough sense to find a public place to hide.”

I smile as I continue to wipe away Sango’s hard work. It feels like that was a lifetime ago. “I’m glad I found this place. I honestly didn’t expect anything other than a convenience store to be open this late.”

“Noriko, is there anyone I can call?” asks Mei after a few moments of silence. “Surely your parents are expecting you.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have any parents, just a foster family.” This is close enough to the truth that I do not feel bad about lying. Saying they are my family would have been the true lie. “Besides, I don’t even know if they’re home.”

Mei frowns slightly. “Still, you must live somewhere. Maybe we can take you home.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” I say quickly despite how reassured I feel. “I can’t put you out anymore than I already have.”

“Nonsense,” says Mei dismissively. “I’d feel better knowing that you’re home safe. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and a hot meal in you.”

I smile just a little easier as Mei reaches up and takes a wipe from the bag in my hand.

* * *

 

Ritsu parks in front of my house and I glance over at him, he seems tense and a little nervous. I can hardly blame him, given the circumstances I would be wary as well. The only reason I am not is because of Mei and her husband. After Mei cleaned me up, she put the damp cloth around my neck to help calm me down before escorting me back to the dining room where a steaming bowl of the country’s best beef stew was waiting for me along with a large cup of tea. I sat at the bar and ate my food and drank my tea as Mei engaged me in conversation; Ritsu chimed in occasionally but for the most part he kept his head down and assisted his father with whatever he needed. I was impressed that he knew what his father said considering his father only seemed to speak in grunts and sighs.

When I was finished with my meal, and given satisfactory answers to all of Mei’s questions, she offered to have Ritsu drive me home in the family car. I wanted to decline but the thought of walking out there alone was enough to spur me on to politely accept the offer.

“I’m sorry,” I say again for what feels like the hundredth time this evening. “You and your family have been so kind to me, I hope I can repay you someday.”

Ritsu looks at me and the slightest smile comes across his lips. “Just promise to come in every once in a while and I’m sure that’ll be enough for Mom and Dad. I think Mom really likes you.”

I smile timidly. “I might be by more often than that, your dad is an amazing chef.”

“I’ll let him know you said that,” says Ritsu with a chuckle. “Stop by any time, Noriko, we’d be glad to have you.”

“Thank you again, for everything,” I say as I get out of his car, my bag over my shoulder.

“Anytime,” says Ritsu kindly.

I close the door and head up the walk, my ears peeled for any indication that my previous attackers are waiting in the wing for my return. Logically I know they do not know where I live, but I cannot help but feel anxious as I head up to the house. I am very relieved that Ritsu did not pull away the moment I left like I half expected him to do, after all he did his job and got me home safely. I reach the door and then I hear a car honk. I look over my shoulder and see the passenger window of Ritsu’s car rolled down.

“Have a good night, Nori!” he says loud enough that I can hear despite the distance. “And by the way, you look much better without all that makeup.”

I laugh and blush fiercely. I can see his pinked cheeks from here and he gives me a dazzlingly bright smile before he pulls away and I slip into my house.


	5. Discovery

The next morning I wake up to an empty house. I find this both a relief and a cause for suspicion. I know Koji and I were not expected back until later tonight, but my adoptive parents very rarely take a night for themselves; most of that is because of my foster father’s job and how often he is called on short notice. And it is especially strange since last I knew, Koji has a swim meet and she has a meeting. Still, I am not about to waste an opportunity like this. I slip out of bed and hurry to their room, the one room in the house Koji and I are not supposed to go into without explicit permission. Given the extent of their lies, I easily reason that they forfeited my obedience, so I open the door and go inside without hesitation. I am going to find out about my birth parents even if it kills me and I am sure the answers are behind this door.

The room itself is hardly impressive. Across from the door is a standard queen-sized bed, neatly made with a dark blue quilt and four white, plump pillows. There is not a wrinkle on either, and I wonder where my adoptive mother learned to make beds. There are two matching oak dressers on either side of the room, one with its top completely bare and the other with ties and coins and other pieces of rubbish strew across it. The bare one is hers, and the cluttered one is his. I go over to hers first, previous experience tells me that anything of importance is going to be in her possession. Upon opening the top drawer and seeing the neatly folded garments, I roll my eyes. Of course, her clothes are folded like those found in a store. The need to just slightly alter them to a less precise state overwhelms me, and if I did not need to keep my violation of their rules a secret, I would have done just that.

Instead, I carefully lift the stacks of garments out one by one and search for anything of value. When I find nothing in this first drawer, I put it back exactly as I saw it and proceed to the next one, repeating the process until I come to the last drawer. Upon opening this drawer, I notice something strange about it. I look at the stacks of neatly folded shirts and realize that they are shorter than the ones in the drawer above and do not come up to the top of the drawer. There are three shirts less in each pile, which works out to almost eight centimeters. This means this drawer is likely 30cm deep, versus the others, which are precisely 38cm deep. I pull out the clothes with trembling hands; whatever this drawer is hiding it is likely for what I am looking. When I reach the bottom, I put my hand flat on the surface and move it just slightly. Sure enough, it moves enough to indicate what I suspected: a false bottom.

My hand goes to the back of the drawer, and I press hard on the very edge, it goes down, and the front end goes up. I smile as I continue to push until the front of the false bottom is raised enough that I can grab it with my other hand. Using both hands, I pull it away and put it on the floor beside me. When I look at what the drawer was hiding, my mouth falls open just slightly. There are several stacks of files and what seems to be a journal. There is so much here, and I doubt I will be able to read it all before they show up.

I scan the tabs and my heart pounds when I find several with my name and a year on them. I pick up the stack and go immediately for the last one, which says “Noriko, 2010” the year I was born. When I open it, the first thing on top is my adoption paper, dated a week before my birthday. I pick up the packet and flip through to the back, finding a set of four signatures. Two are from my adoptive parents, one is from the facilitator a man named Rue Ryuzaki, and the last one is very shaky, and it takes me a moment to make out what it says. When I do, my heart nearly stops. The fourth signature belongs to Misa Amane. The papers almost fall from my hands, as the realization crashes over me like a cold wave. My mother, my biological mother, was Misa Amane.

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. It is almost dreamlike that my mother, the woman who gave me life, has been part of it and I never knew or had any indication. I suddenly feel terrible for making fun of her music and movies. I hug the piece of paper with my mother’s signature to my heart as I try to keep myself from breaking down crying. There are so many questions I want to be answered, but all I can think of is my mother and wanting a piece of her close. I move the paper and look at her signature, it is so wobbly it is almost illegible, but it makes me smile; perhaps it is because she could not stand the idea of giving me up but needed to do it anyway. That thought breaks me out of my spiraling of emotions. Why would she have to give me up? She certainly had the money to take care of me, and she was old enough that family could not object.

I pull the paper away and look again at her signature. It is then I notice that there is a blank line below it with the word “Father” beneath, and I realize that it is empty. I recall Sango saying something about Misa’s fiancé being murdered and her losing her baby when she heard the news. Apparently, the latter half is false, according to this document but what about the former? Is it possible that my father was murdered? And if so, who was he?

I look at the folder in front of me and see my birth certificate and a piece of paper from a hospital on top; apparently, it was underneath the adoption papers. I reach for them and drop the other paper into my lap. I put my birth certificate under the piece of paper, wanting to savor the moment for a little longer. These are things I never knew about my birth, and I want to ensure they are engrained in my memory; my adoptive mother could recall details of Koji’s delivery with vivid clarity but always claimed she had been too drugged up to remember anything about mine. Now I know the truth.

According to the notes, I was born two weeks early; my due date was 28 August rather than 14 August, and I weighed just less than six pounds. Tears swim in my eyes when I read the doctor’s note about how my mother nearly bled to death giving birth to me, and I take a moment to collect myself before continuing. I was born at 5:23 am, according to the doctor the sun was just beginning to rise, and my mother insisted on holding me after she was recovered. The next sentence nearly makes me sick. According to the doctor, I was unresponsive when I was immediately born, and it took a nurse rubbing my back to get me to breathe. The notes end with a passage about me gaining almost half a pound after a day of feeding.

I reread the page, and a third time before I gather the courage to bring my birth certificate forward. My eyes are closed when I do and when I open them, my eyes immediately go to my name, and my heart stops for a split second. The name on the certificate is not Noriko Amane; it is not even Noriko Matsuda. It is Noriko Yagami. I know who my birth father is but I look anyway to confirm it, and sure enough, the name on the father’s line is Light Yagami.

Knowing this only raises more questions. Why was he murdered? Where? When? Did he know about me? Did he even know Misa was expecting? Who killed him? I look at the file again and notice that these are the only papers it contains. There is nothing about my father. I look at the stack of folders beside me and still in the drawer, wondering if maybe there is something in them about him. There is only one way to find out.

* * *

 

I spend the next two hours meticulously going through the files I found in Raku’s drawer. Each one leads to more questions, but I occasionally find answers in others later on, so it satisfies my curiosity enough not to tear the room apart looking for more. I discover that my name never was Noriko Matsuda; it has been Yagami since I started school and all of my records are under that name. The only reason I never knew, at least according to a note to the principal, was they were waiting for the right age to tell me I am adopted. My family name is my father’s as part of my mother’s supposed dying wish, and they did not want to change it.

I then learn that I am not the only living Yagami, I have an aunt who resides in an institution and her name is Sayu. There is not much on her, other than the fact that she is still alive and living peacefully. There are mentions of my grandparents. My grandfather was Deputy Director Soichiro Yagami of the NPA and died after a raid on a Mafia hideout due to injuries sustained in the process. My grandmother, Sachiko Yagami, died about five years ago from cancer; she is buried beside my grandfather in a cemetery here in the Kanto region. I make a note of the cemetery and plan to visit it soon, hopefully when I meet my aunt.

Still, there is no mention of my father in any of these files. Just documents from doctors, teachers, and psychiatrists. The last one gives me pause until I recall all of those counselors I spoke to throughout my school career; apparently, they were assessing my mental health rather than my future career choices and decisions. Still, they did not find anything to indicate I was developing irregularly; I was a highly intelligent and inquisitive child with a precocious streak. When I entered middle school, they did seem concerned with how argumentative I was with my teachers and did not appreciate me denouncing the teachers and the curriculum. I smirk when I read about an incident in biology when I informed the teacher that he needed to include climate change as a reason for shrinking animal populations and changing migration patterns; he told me point blank that climate change did not exist and was a fabrication to give relevancy to meteorologists. We had a terrible row that resulted in the principal and several other teachers getting involved. I was removed from the class and transferred to another.

I think about my biological parents and wonder how they would have dealt with me in these circumstances. Would my father have been proud of me for questioning what I was being told? Would my mother have patted me on the head and rewarded me for being smart? I want to believe that they would have encouraged me to nurture my intelligence, unlike my adoptive parents who constantly try to hide it. I resent them for that, for consistently telling me to keep my head down and not stand out, for praising my athletic pursuits over my academic ones while at the same time encouraging Koji to excel in school. The hypocrisy of it astounds me.

I remember being ten and hiding my progress reports and test scores because I did not want my parents to see that I was disobeying them. I cried over and dreaded the days my parents would go in and speak with my teachers; they would find out that I was at the top of the class and then tell me that I needed to rein it in. Only I refused. Despite knowing I was willfully defying my parents and fearing the day when they would inevitably find out, I just refused to make myself dumber just to get my parents’ praise. I feared their punishments more than their disappointment, which is why I was afraid whenever they found out because they did punish me, usually with revoked privileges. When I turned twelve, I stopped caring and flaunted my intelligence for everyone to see, hence the reason why I argued with my teachers; I knew I was right and I wanted everyone else to know it.

When I finish with that file, the last one with my name on it, I go back to the dresser drawer and pull out another stack. This one is smaller, and I cock an eyebrow when I see the words “Misa Amane, Finance Report.” I open it, and the first stack of papers is a will. I pick it up and flip through, pausing when I see my name typed on the top of a page. Reading the passage reveals that my mother named me as her sole beneficiary and upon entering university or turning twenty-five, whichever comes first, I inherit her estate worth an estimated $45 million at the time of the will. I am also to receive her royalty checks, and I own the rights to her name and image.

I put the will down and search through the rest, of the papers in the file. There is a recent addition, dated just a few weeks ago with an updated total of my mother’s account. Now her estate is worth $67 million. I go back to the will and flip through until I find a breakdown of her estate:

  * Monetary assets accumulated through work as a pop idol: $12 million.
  * Monetary assets accumulated through work as an actress: $8 million.
  * Monetary assets accumulated through stocks and bonds: $6 million.
  * Monetary assets accumulated through inheritance: $2 million.
  * Value of houses currently owned: $1.25-$2.5 million.
  * Manor in Tokyo, Kanto Region: $1.25 million.
  * Manor in Tokyo, Kansai Region: 1.75 million.
  * Mansion in Los Angeles, California, United States: $2.5 million.
  * Value of cars currently owned: $25,000-$100,000.
  * Note: Financial advisor redacts breakdown of car values, provided the number instead. There are five cars in the estate.



There are a few more itemized breakdowns of jewelry, land, collectibles, and some trust funds she set up just before she died. I find the trusts most interesting as one is in my adoptive father’s name, and the other is in the name of Sayu and Sachiko Yagami. The one concerning my aunt and grandmother stipulates that a specific stock will be used to finance the trust, so long as it remains profitable; if not, then it is to be sold and replaced with another. This set of stock is apparently separate from what she left me. The one in my adoptive father’s name is a set amount and cannot be increased without my or an attorney’s express permission.

I take out my phone and start taking pictures of the will, followed by the account information in the file and then my birth certificate. Now that I know these exist, there is no way in hell I am parting with them again. I flip through the will again, making sure I am not missing any crucial pages when I come across a line of the estate I did not see previously:

  * Misa Amane leaves her daughter, Noriko Yagami, the contents of a safety deposit box. Access is given upon the death of Misa Amane.



I reread the line, and I find myself smiling when I finally look up. My mother left me something tangible, something that is not tied up in her estate and her stipulations. I snap a picture of the page, which includes the address of the bank and box number. Suddenly my phone begins vibrating in my hand, and I jump, especially when I see that it is my adoptive father calling me.

“Hello?” I say when I regain enough of my senses to answer.

 _“Hi sweetie, how are you?”_ he asks, sounding cheerful, and I frown.

“I’m fine, how are you?” I ask, and I hear him chuckle.

 _“I’m great,”_ he replies. _“Your mother and I just wanted to check on you. Are you waiting in line or something? It sounds pretty quiet for Spaceland.”_

“I’m not at Spaceland,” I say, leaning against the side of the bed. “Parisa effectively canceled that trip and any other possible trips last night.”

There is silence on the other end.

 _“I see,”_ he says at last. _“Well, I would’ve appreciated a text or something to let me know.”_

“I’m sorry,” I lie. “Where are you? You weren’t home when I got in.”

 _“Your mother and I decided to have a mini vacation,”_ he says, and I am instantly suspicious. They rarely take vacations, especially together. _“Koji’s going to be staying with a friend for the weekend and we were hoping Sango’s family would be alright hosting you, but apparently that fell through.”_ He almost sounds irritated. _“Anyway, I’m sure I can find someone else to take you in.”_

“No, that’s okay,” I say calmly, barely covering my enthusiasm at the idea of being home alone. With them gone, I can peruse the files at my leisure and not have to worry about getting caught red-handed. “I could use the quiet; it’d be a good studying environment.”

Again I am greeted with silence, although I hear what sounds like whispering on the other end.

 _“Your mother and I would feel better if you were with someone,”_ he argues, and I roll my eyes.

“I’m hardly a child,” I argue, knowing that is an argument typically used by children but I know how to use it effectively. “I know how to cook, I know how to save myself in an emergency, and I know when to ask for help. I’ll even check in with you every night until you get back.” Before he even gets the chance to argue, I add in a gloomy tone, “Please, I could use the space. It’ll help me get over Sango and Haru.”

I expect silence to fall once again but instead, I hear a defeated sigh and I smile triumphantly.

 _“Alright, you can stay home alone,”_ he concedes. _“Just make sure you call every night and don’t go out past nine.”_

“I promise!” I say happily, all too eager for the opportunity of a lifetime. “Bye, I need to get ready for tennis tonight! We’re having an afternoon practice to warm up for the game tonight.”

 _“Okay, bye honey, I lo—”_ he starts, but I hang up.

* * *

 

I practically skip to the bank I am so excited to see what my mother left me all those years ago. My heart feels lighter for the first time in days, and I want to sing along to the music playing on my phone; I downloaded my mother’s final CD before I left and am listening to the song I now know is dedicated to me. Listening to my mother declare her love and wishes for me is incredibly bittersweet; while I enjoy hearing how much she cared and adored me, at the same time I know this was made at the end of her life, which means I will never be able to tell her how much I care about her. I almost laugh as I think about that. Just yesterday I was cursing the woman for existing because of her music, and now I love her. It is somewhat astonishing how quickly feelings can change.

When I arrive at the bank, my first instinct is to slowly back away. The building is practically a skyscraper compared to the others on this block; the front looks like it is made of hundreds of panes of glass that shine in the sunlight like diamonds. There are three broad revolving doors, each one with dozens of people getting in and out. Even the people looked like they were specially made for this building, all of them wearing suits that likely cost as much as a car.

I look down at my clothes, a pair of ironed ivory dress pants and a cranberry sweater. I swallow hard before boldly striding up to the nearest revolving door; before I enter, I run a hand over the top of my head to flatten any flyaway pieces of hair. I glance at the people beside me, they all seem too engrossed in their phones even to notice I exist. I smile to myself as I slip into the door and become swept up into this new world.

If the outside of the bank is intimidating, the inside is downright unapproachable. The floors look like they are polished ivory and the walls are pink quartz. The tellers on either side stand at booths made of matching materials, each with a crystal lamp to their left and expensive looking fountain tip pens in hand. I wonder what possessed my mother even to open an account here.

I find a line leading to the tellers and stand behind a man in a bowler hat. I tilt my head as I observe the strange cap; no one wears them anymore, especially not in Japan.

“Damn, I knew I should’ve made an appointment,” the man says in English, his British accent explaining his choice immediately in hats. “I’m going to be here all damn day.”

“Next,” say three tellers and the people in front of me, including the man in the bowler hat, hurry to the tellers.

‘So much for waiting all day,’ I think wryly as I take my place in line, glad that it is a rather short wait. I do not want to wait any longer than necessary to get what my mother left me.

“Next,” says a female teller and I quickly go to her station. She is wearing a well-tailored Navy blue women’s suit, her hair is a shiny black, and her grey eyes are kind as I step in front of her. “How may I help you?”

“I’m here about a safety deposit box my mother left me,” I reply, barely able to contain my excitement.

The teller nods and begins typing on the keyboard below the desk, and I notice the thin computer screen to my right.

“Your name please?” she asks without looking at me.

“Noriko Yagami,” I reply, relishing the fact I can use my real name instead of the one I was told was mine.

She nods again. “And your mother’s name, Miss Yagami?”

“Misa Amane,” I reply, and she stops typing and looks at me strangely.

“You’re Misa Amane’s daughter?” asks the teller, narrowing her eyes slightly.

I nod as I reach into my pocket, my fingers curling gently around the piece of paper I put in there earlier. I anticipated something like this might happen, so I took the document from home, leaving a fake in its place should my adoptive parents arrive early. “Yes I am, and I have my birth certificate with me if there’s a problem.”

The woman says nothing, and I hand her my certificate. She unfolds it and looks at it carefully, her eyes flitting over every indication that it is a genuine document and not a forgery. Finally, her gaze lifts and she looks at me warily. I meet her gaze and smile at her.

“Alright, give me a moment,” says the teller as she passes me back my birth certificate and I pocket it. She leaves her post, and I stand, waiting for what feels like an eternity before she returns with a man dressed in a pitch-black three-piece suit. He is tall and imposing and looks at me as if he can tell exactly how much money I have to my name.

“Miss Yagami, this is the bank manager, Mr. Sakata,” says the teller politely. “He’s going to take you to your mother’s security deposit box.”

I look at him, and he smiles politely.

“This way, Miss Yagami, if you please,” he says, gesturing to the left and I glance down the aisle to see a gold door handle sticking out against a large slab of quartz.

“Yes, sir,” I say, and I quickly head down to the door, although I try to stay at pace with Mr. Sakata. When I arrive, the door silently swings open, and I step through. The door closes behind me just as quietly, and once it is shut, Mr. Sakata heads down a hallway just behind him.

The hallway is made of the same pink quartz as the rest of the bank, and the ivory floor runs through it as well. Doors carved into the stone, line the passage and I try not to look around too much, afraid of bringing more attention to myself. My low-heeled shoes click on the stone floor, and I briefly wonder why I chose such noisy shoes for a place like this. Finally, we reach the end of the hallway, and Mr. Sakata opens a door that leads into what looks like a library. He gestures for me to enter and I do when my foot crosses the threshold I feel a difference between the floors and I look down, instead of polished ivory I am standing on pale grey carpet.

I look up and gasp when I see the room. It is a vast space with plush leather chairs clustered around tables in the center and large dark wood bookcases on the perimeter of the room. Despite its size, the room feels incredibly cozy.

“This way,” says Mr. Sakata briskly and I shake out of my stupor just in time to follow him to one of the bookcases. We head down an opening between it and another bookcase and come to a stop about halfway through. “This is your mother’s box.” He points at a box, and I smile a little when I see the gold plaque with my mother’s name engraved on it. Mr. Sakata pulls out a key from his pocket and opens the box.

I am tempted to push him away, but I refrain and wait until he moves before I step into his place. Inside the box are several metal boxes of varying sizes and all have a small silver lock. I look to Mr. Sakata who is already in the process of taking something out of his pocket.

“This key will work on the contents,” he explains as he hands me a silver key. “You may stay as long as you like, and when you’re finished, you can either take your possessions with you or put them back in the box. It will lock automatically after it has been closed for thirty seconds, so do not worry about a key.”

I nod. “Thank you, Mr. Sakata. When I’m ready to go, do I just head back the way I came?”

He nods and also points at a small door across the room. “You can also leave that way if you prefer a more unnoticed exit.”

“I’ll consider it, you may leave,” I say as I turn back to the open box. I barely hear him leave.

Slowly I pull the boxes out and stack them as well as I can in my arms before I go to the sitting area and deposit them on the closest table. I sit in one of the leather armchairs and stare at the boxes as if expecting them to disappear before I can open one. Slowly, I reach for the smallest box, my fingers trembling as they close around its cold surface. I drag it closer, and when it is close enough, I put the key in and turn the lock. It opens.

Lifting the lid, I see a piece of white paper and a USB drive. I go for the paper first and have to swallow a sob.

   _Noriko,_

_If you’re reading this, I’m sorry._

_You deserved a better mother than me._

_I hope these recordings help you to understand._

_I love you,_

_Mom_

I look at the USB and then back at the letter. If my reasoning is correct, then the recordings my mom mentioned are on this drive. I slip it and the note into my pocket.

The next box I go for is relatively large; it could probably hold a watch or a jewelry box from a store. When I open it, I almost laugh when I see a watch sitting in it. The watch is beautifully crafted, silver in color with a metal link band and face setting. I smile as I pick it up, there is some weight to it but not as much as I thought it would and turning it over I see that the brand is OMEGA. I turn it back over and look at the three additional faces inside the primary one and deduce that it is from the Speed-Master series. The only reason I know this is I tried to buy a similar watch for my adoptive father for his twenty year anniversary on the police force, but my foster mother firmly told me no.

Like the previous box, there is a note on this one:

_Noriko,_

_This was your father’s watch and the only piece of him I have (besides you)._

_I’m sure he would want you to have it._

_It should still work; I had it repaired and left instructions to have it cared for._

_Love,_

_Mom_

I hold the watch up to my ear, and I hear all four mechanisms steadily tick. It seems the bank listened to my mother’s request. I gingerly inspect the watch again. This belonged to my father, Light Yagami, a man revered in my school as one of the brightest students in all of Japan and maybe one of the greatest detectives as well. I hold the watch close to my heart, listening to it tick in time with my heartbeat. A few moments later, I put the watch on my left arm and adjust the band to fit my slightly slimmer wrist. It fits perfectly.


	6. Results

I spend several hours at the bank, rereading my mother's notes and going through each of the boxes she bequeathed. There were a dozen or so boxes in it, and as I left, I asked the bank manager if there was anything else at the bank my mother issued to me; he replied that there was, but I would not have access to them until I was in university as per my mother's last will. I wanted to argue and say I am in college, but I know without documentation to prove the fact, I will just have to wait until I am before I can get the rest of my inheritance.

Still, I am reasonably happy with what I found in that box and what I am taking back with me. Along with the USB drive and my father's watch, there were several photo albums, a copy of every CD she made, and DVDs I believe contain home movies. None of it is very valuable monetarily wise, except perhaps the watch, but it all holds great sentimental value to me, and I can understand why my mother wanted me to have these things. She wanted me to have pieces of her and my father, so I knew they loved me and that I did mean something to them. I decided to take the majority of the items with me; the thought of leaving them behind right now is too terrifying, especially since I do not know when I will have an opportunity to return.

When I arrive, I head straight up to my room and lock the door behind me. I carefully put my bag of treasures on my bed before retrieving the USB. With a smile, I fly to my computer and plug it in, moments later the icon appears, and I never clicked on something faster. What pops up next surprises me a little, I expected just a few videos or maybe some pictures, but instead, there are thirteen files each marked with a month and year. I click on the one marked "January 2010," and there are only four videos in it. I go back and click on "February 2010" and discover twenty-eight videos in this file. I click on March and then April and June and discover that my mother made a video every single day after January.

I return to the first file and click on the first video. The screen is blank for a few seconds, and I wonder if there is something wrong with the file when the screen becomes bright. Once it subsides, I can see a cream colored wall and a white sofa. A woman wearing a black sweater and matching leggings sits down on the couch. She is petite and blonde with big light brown eyes, and I know right away that this is Misa. She looks different without her makeup.

" _Hi,"_  she says, her voice quavering slightly.  _"I'm not sure what to say, but I guess I should start by saying that I love you."_

She shifts in her seat.

" _I wanted to do this because I need someone to talk to,"_  she says, patting her very flat stomach.  _"Right now, you're just a tiny fish, but you can still hear me at least according to the books. I don't know if you're a boy or a girl yet, all I know is that so far you're healthy and developing well."_  She sniffles for a few seconds.  _"I'm sure your daddy would be happy to know that."_  Her sniffling becomes more intense until she finally breaks down crying.

I glance at the length of the video. It is almost fifteen minutes, and I suspect most of it is of her crying. Despite wanting to see the video completely through, I do not want to sit and watch my mother cry, so I fast forward to the last couple of minutes. It does not surprise me that Misa is still crying, almost inconsolable at this point and my heart aches just a little. My mother did not deserve this; she did nothing to deserve this pain.

" _I'm sorry,"_  says Misa as she wipes her eyes using the cuff of her sleeve.  _"I didn't mean to cry so much; it's just . . . I just found out about you yesterday, and now your daddy died today and . . . I just can't take it! He was supposed to find and stop Kira this wasn't in the plan! We were supposed to start planning our wedding, and now I can't even plan his funeral . . . "_  She dissolves into tears once again, and my heart feels like it is breaking. No wonder my mother thought suicide was the answer. She was an emotional wreck after my father died.

I touch the watch on my wrist, feeling the heavy weight of the metal and I try to imagine how it might have looked on him. The only image of my father I ever saw was of him at eighteen when he graduated, but I try to imagine him at twenty-three, the age he was when he died if he did, in fact, die in 2010. I try to imagine him sitting with my mother, holding her while they looked at a sonogram of me and debated about whether or not I was a boy or girl. I wonder if my father wanted a boy or me. Probably a boy, a little miniature version of himself and Misa probably wanted a girl, a doll to play with. I know so little about my parents, but the speculations sound fitting.

The video ends a few moments later, so I click on the next one, which is only five minutes long. I do not have a problem with that; I do not think I can handle watching my mother cry again. I click on the video and brace myself for the inevitable tears. Misa is back on the couch, still in black and does not look as if she slept the previous night; I highly doubt she did.

" _I wanted to show you something,"_  she says as she holds up something and the camera zooms in, thanks to the small remote in her hand. The camera goes fuzzy for a moment before revealing a sonogram image.  _"It's you! I got this . . . yesterday . . . and I wanted to show . . . Light . . . but . . ."_

I look at the time, barely two minutes in and she is already crying. I skip to the end of the video, and she is just sobbing uncontrollably into the sofa, her fist clenched around the sonogram, and she keeps calling out for my father. I quickly turn off the video. I look at the next video, it is also short, and it seems very likely to be just like the first two; as much as I want to see these videos, I do not want to watch them if they are just my mother bursting into tears and crying after only a few minutes of actually talking. It sounds terrible, but I do not think I can take it again, all I want to do is hug her until she stops and now I never will.

I close the folders and recline back in my desk chair. Based on these videos, my father likely died sometime around the end of January, which would explain Misa's hysterics. I lean forward and open an Internet search page, entering Light's name and the word death and wait for any hits. Sure enough, the first thing that pops up is an obituary. I click on it, and an image of Light greets me immediately, it is likely the most recent one whoever made this had of him. I quickly save it to one of the folders on Misa's USB.

I return my attention to the article and find exactly what I am looking for:

_Light Yagami, February 28, 1986—January 28, 2010._

I frown a little, my father died almost seven months before I was even born, and considering the date on Misa's first video he certainly did not know that she was even expecting me. I feel a little disappointed knowing that. I scroll down for the rest of the obituary, hoping it will at least answer why he died.

_Light Yagami was an admired and respected young man despite his short life._

_During his little time on this earth, he achieved more than most achieve in a lifetime._

_He graduated top of his class at Daikoku Private Academy, was named the Freshman Representative for To-Oh University and right after graduating entered the Japanese National Police Agency._

_His biggest case was working towards the apprehension of the criminal named Kira._

_He worked closely with several detectives and the world famous detective known as L._

My heart jumps into my throat.  _'My father worked with L? Why . . . Why didn't I see this when I was researching him?'_

_It was during this investigation that Light sadly lost his life._

_Someone suspected of being Kira shot him in the Yellow Box warehouse in Daikoku Wharf._

_He is survived by his mother Sachiko Yagami, younger sister Sayu Yagami, fiancée Misa Amane, and unborn child._

Whoever wrote this obituary obviously knew that Misa was expecting me at the time, so it was Misa, my grandmother, or my aunt. I look at the date this was published, February 7th, and close the screen, opening the folders from the USB and find the corresponding video. I click on the video and brace myself for the inevitable tears.

" _Your aunt sent me a link to the obituary she wrote about your father,"_  says Misa almost immediately and she sounds angry. Again she is sitting on a white sofa, dressed in something black. She shakes her head.  _"I can't believe she left out so much! She should've said that he was murdered by Matsuda instead of someone they suspected was Kira!"_  Tears are already running down her cheeks, but she seems determined not to succumb.  _"That bastard . . . I trusted him! Dammit, I thought he was our friend . . . but then he . . . he shot Light . . ."_  She furiously wipes her eyes.  _"I don't even know why I'm so upset; he said it was because Light admitted to being Kira—"_

I pause the video. My father did what? He . . . he admitted to being Kira . . . and my mother . . . she sounded so blasé when she said it . . . like she expected it or accepted it. Did she know? Did she help him? More importantly, if she knew Matsuda shot my father, why did she leave me with him? Maybe she was forced to, in exchange for her silence?

"— _Kira and I should be sad about that but . . . I'm not. Somehow . . . it just makes sense. I know that sounds terrible, and I hope you don't think less of me for saying it, but I could never hate your father, even if he were Kira."_  Misa chuckles to herself.  _"You know, if I could, I'd have probably helped him. How dumb does that sound? Light probably wouldn't even want my help; he'd think I was too stupid."_

' _Mom . . .'_

" _Anyway, I just had to get that off my chest,"_  says Misa with a shrug.  _"Your aunt means well, but she doesn't know the whole truth. I don't know everything but what I do know is your father was Kira and that Matsuda murdered him."_  She looks at the camera, something strange in her eye.  _"Listen to me, if you ever meet Matsuda, don't trust anything he says or does. Remember, he killed your father without any hesitation; he stole away your family. He can never be trusted."_

"I already figured that out, Mom, maybe seventeen years too late," I say with a slight sigh.

" _I should probably get off here,"_  says Misa, looking at her phone.  _"I have a meeting with some lawyers and accountants regarding my estate."_  She pats her belly.  _"I need to make sure everything's squared away before you get here. Wouldn't do to not have money, right? I love you, my darling baby."_

The camera cuts off, and I let out a small chuckle. At least she was not crying the entire video this time. I lean back in my chair, thinking about this revelation that my father was the notorious criminal known as Kira. So, he died because he was cornered and Matsuda killed him to stop him, at least that is the only logical explanation. I shake my head. I went from having a family to no family to finding my family and now uncovering the secrets people tried to keep hidden all of these years.


	7. Loyalties

"Do you have a status update regarding the subject?" asks the figure at the end of the table, clad in a white silk nightshirt and matching bottoms. His long, white finger is wrapped around a curl of snow-white hair while his smoky grey eyes stare down those sitting at the table. It is startling to see something so dark against something so white.

"We do," says Raku as she stands up. I can only watch as she rattles off the necessary information. "The subject is still attending cram school and visiting the library frequently. She recently became tangled up in a love triangle between herself, Haru Misaki, and Sango Tanuma. It resolved itself fairly quickly with Sango Tanuma emerging as the victor. She showed no outward signs of emotional distress and seemed fairly content with the outcome. It would seem that emotional situations don't trigger a violent response."

Every three months or so, Raku and I meet up with our mutual employer and discuss the hurdles and triumphs of our seventeen-year-old daughter while making a note of anything that might point to her slowly morphing into the homicidal maniac her biological father was. I do not see the point in it, all her life Noriko has done nothing except try to live up to our expectations and do right by her family. Raku seems to think otherwise and meticulously writes down every little detail and sends weekly reports to L, or as I will always know him, Near. I am starting to think that she is hoping Noriko will turn out like her father so she will be justified in her poor treatment of our daughter.

Near hums thoughtfully as he twists more of the hair around his finger. "I see. Then it seems she doesn't possess her mother's predilection for charged emotional statements that lead to destruction. Such a shame, it would be easier to predict and ascertain when she has a mental breakdown if that were the case." He releases his hold on the hair and lets it bounce back into the heap on his head. "How is she handling the stress of preparing for her college entrance exams?"

"Nori's doing as well as she ever has," I reply, cutting off Raku before she can start. "She's juggling several projects while still making room for tennis practice and cram school, as well as her late nights at the library. She even scored highest in the country on the nationwide exams."

"I see she isn't listening again about keeping her head down regarding academics," Near says shortly. "She seems to be developing more like him every time we speak. It'll only be a matter of time before she starts spouting nonsense about creating a new world and becoming a god."

"She isn't anything like him!" I nearly shouted, jumping out of my seat. "Noriko hasn't ever spoken about punishing criminals or how unfair the justice system appears to her. If anything, seeing injustice encourages her to live justly and help others where she can. She isn't interested in ridding the world of crime or making it some paradise."

He chuckles. "A passionate defense as always, Matsuda. Raku, do you agree with your husband's sentiments?"

Raku glances at me and then shakes her head. "While I agree that the subject does greatly dislike injustice, I fail to see how that's different from how he saw the world. He claimed several times to be righting the wrongs of the world, and she seems to be following that path."

"If she were, then she would've run for student council president," I argue. "If she wanted to change things so badly, she would've put herself in a position where she was able to invoke power. She didn't and hasn't ever expressed an interest."

"She's good friends with the student council president if I recall correctly," he says, looking directly at me as he speaks. "Surely you think she's not using that opportunity to influence policy and implement the change she wants to see? And don't forget, he wasn't ever in a position of power during his time in school and yet, reform that aligned with his ideals and beliefs occurred during his years there."

I swallow hard. He can twist everything to serve his purpose; it's like talking to Light all over again. "Nori isn't like him. I knew him, and I know her and she is far from being in any way like him."

"How's her temper these days?" he asks, diverting the conversation. "Any more outbursts?"

I sigh quietly. When she was younger, Noriko was a bit of a hothead. She was prone to lashing out when she was angry, and she was angered very easily. It started to get worse when she entered middle school and began arguing with teachers. She claimed that they were purposefully misleading the class in their lessons, and she was just trying to correct them, but the situation escalated to the point she needed to be removed from class. There were also incidents when she was younger, of her talking back and being disrespectful to staff and students. We moved her to three different schools between kindergarten and the fourth grade.

"She's learned to control it, just as we reported last time," I say, barely containing a sigh. "Nori seems to have calmed down with age and having outlets for her frustration. It's been the same since she was twelve and joined the tennis team in middle school."

That had been Sachiko's suggestion when I called her in a fit of desperation. Noriko was only getting worse, and I was at my wit's end on what to do with her. I secretly called her and asked for advice, wondering if Light or Sayu behaved similarly. I was terrified that something was wrong with Noriko and that she might become violent. She informed me that Light had a bit of a temper—I imagine she played down the intensity—and she had signed him up for tennis when he was eleven. I never told Raku or Near about that phone conversation and the last time I spoke to Sachiko was to report that her idea had been a success. She died a few days later.

"Good," says Near with a nod. "I'm glad she's no longer causing trouble in school, at least in that regard. Still, you should keep monitoring her moods and triggers. I would hate for an outburst to turn violent."

' _No, I think that's exactly what you want,'_  I think bitterly as I nod along with Raku.

"I still wonder where that temper came from," he muses, playing with a small stack of dice in front of him. "I know Misa Amane was prone to fits of emotion, but I would never peg her as one who has a quick temper. He, on the other hand, was always careful with how he behaved as if keeping himself in check—"

"That has nothing to do with her," I say coolly. "She's nothing like him, nothing."

"She's naturally talented academically and athletically," he points out. "Her drive to achieve and be recognized is reminiscent of his, she strives for perfection and settles for nothing less, her moral compass is set as squarely as his. Whether you want to admit it or not, Matsuda she's exhibiting behavior unique to him. We're just lucky we were able to step in and take her otherwise she might have been raised to be an exact copy of him. God only knows how Misa Amane would've cared for her."

"I'm still surprised you were able to convince her, L," says Raku as she sits back down and I follow her lead. "She was very adamant that she would raise the subject herself, without any assistance."

L, or as I know him, Near nods in her direction. "Yes, it wasn't easy to persuade Misa Amane to give up her child, but once she saw reason, it was simple." He resumes twisting a piece of his hair. "Is there any danger that she might find out the truth regarding her situation?"

Raku immediately shakes her head. "No, sir, I've seen to that myself."

"Well, she might get suspicious if she ever figures out that Raku acts like a block of ice around her," I say with a slight sneer. "It doesn't help that she treats Koji differently."

Near looks at Raku curiously. "Do you find it that difficult to be around her?"

"Yes," she says, glaring slightly at me. "I've never been comfortable with the idea of raising the child of the man who killed my brother and best friend, but I've done all you asked because it's the right thing to do. We needed to monitor her and ensure that she doesn't develop into another Kira. If that means some discomfort for me, then I'd gladly accept the challenge. We can't have another one of him running around in the world."

Near gives her a bare and thin smile, probably the most genuine one I have ever seen on his face in all the years we have worked together. "Mm, perhaps I was wrong about the source of her drive, perhaps she's imitating you, Raku."

Raku gives a half snort in response. "I highly doubt that, sir. The subject feels nothing but contempt for me most days and prefers Touta's company over mine."

"Because I treat Nori like a human being," I retort and she rolls her eyes. "Would you knock it off already? I get it, you don't like her and never will, but you could at least act like she's human instead of some foreign creature that repulses you. God, you're impossible sometimes."

"At least I'm treating this like the situation it is," she snaps, her words cutting to the bone. "You act like everything's normal, that she isn't the child of two mass murderers and that we weren't chosen to adopt her solely to prevent another. I can't believe you sometimes."

Near makes a slight coughing sound, and we both turn to look at him. "I'm sensing that Noriko's presence in your lives is creating a point of contention. My offer is still open, and I would encourage you to take it."

"I don't know," I say, recalling the deal he offered us when Noriko was twelve and starting to act out in school. "I don't see a point in signing parental rights over to you, especially since she's going to be in university in a few months anyway and those contracts become void then. I think we can handle it."

"Perhaps you could move her out of your house?" presses Near and I know where this is going, he has tried this avenue before. "The headquarters the original L built does have apartments, and she'd be well monitored, I assure you."

"And don't you think she'd be suspicious if she moved into a building and was the only tenant?" I argue, and he seems to concede, but I know this is not the end of the discussion. There's one more route for him to take and I can already see it forming on his tongue.

"Then move her into an apartment in a different building," he says, eyeing me carefully. "We can have it set up with cameras and bugs just the same as here."

Hearing this makes me feel dirty and like a scumbag. Near has wanted Noriko under his control since she was fourteen, the prime age for discovering if she is like her father, or so he claimed. I was never fond of the idea of Near being anywhere close to her, and for a while, Raku agreed, but now I feel like she is going to give in just to be rid of her.

"We'll have to talk about it," I say, glancing at my wife who is staring at me curiously. "Are we finished for today?"

"Yes," says Near with a curt nod. "I would like to see you two back here again tomorrow before you return home."

"Why?" asks Raku, trying to sound calm but I know she is suspicious.

"I thought it would be nice to catch up over a meal," replies Near with a tight smile. "Whenever we talk it's always business, I would like to do a proper catch up every once in a while."

Raku and I glance at each other uneasily. Whenever Near tries to do something remotely in line with social norms and standards, there is always a catch.

* * *

The drive back to our hotel is quiet. This is the first time in years that Raku and I have given a report to Near together and it feels strange. I usually am the one who does this while Raku stays at home with the kids. This is the first time in a long time that we have been alone together, without the kids even present in the same building.

"He's going to force us, you know," she says as she turns down the main street. "This was his ultimate goal from the beginning."

"I know," I say, watching as the lights blur as we drive. "He's never been able to let this case go, even after all these years."

"Can you blame him?" she asks, glancing at me. "He spent six years on the original case and then in just a few months when he thought he would have a resolution; we were thrown for a loop once again by Light Yagami. He somehow survived and escaped."

"I still don't know how," I say quietly. "I know there wasn't a body, but there wasn't a trail of blood leading away from the stairs either. It's like he simply flew away."

Raku snorts slightly. "Do you think he became a god and flew away, Touta?"

"No!" I say a little louder than I intended and I quickly give her an apologetic smile. "Sorry. No, I don't think he had help from the  _Shinigami_. I think he managed to hide before we showed up and that's why we couldn't find his body."

"That is possible," she concedes, and I take it as a small victory. "You know, the kids are probably at Spaceland by now. We should probably call to check in."

"You're right," I say as I pull out my phone and dial Noriko's number.

" _Hello?"_  says Noriko when she answers.

"Hi sweetie, how are you?" I ask, trying to sound cheerful.

" _I'm fine, how are you?"_  she replies and I chuckle.

"I'm great," I say. It's nice to hear her voice. "Your mother and I just wanted to check on you. Are you waiting in line or something? It sounds pretty quiet for Spaceland."

" _I'm not at Spaceland,"_  she says, and my stomach sours. Something must have gone wrong.

" _Parisa effectively canceled that trip and any other possible ones last night."_

I stare straight ahead. This is not good. We told Near that she would be watched and now, she is home alone, probably for the entire weekend.

"I see," I say after a few moments. "Well, I would've appreciated a text or something to let me know."

" _I'm sorry. Where are you? You weren't home when I got in."_

"Your mother and I decided to have a mini vacation," I say, and Raku nods, obviously going along with the plan. "Koji's going to be staying with a friend for the weekend and we were hoping Sango's family would be alright hosting you, but apparently that fell through." I really do not want her to stay home alone. There is no telling what might happen. "Anyway, I'm sure I can find someone else to take you in."

" _No, that's okay. I could use the quiet; it'd be a good studying environment."_

I hold the phone away and cover the bottom half as I turn to address Raku, "She wants to stay home alone."

"Absolutely not!" she says in a hushed shout. "We can't have her snooping, and you know she will, she can't help herself."

"But what's there to find?" I counter. "Everything important is locked away, right?"

"She'll get into it," says Raku, almost sounding proud of that fact.

I turn my attention back to Noriko. "Your mother and I would feel better if you were with someone," I say, looking to Raku who continues to nod.

" _I'm hardly a child,"_  she argues, and I brace myself for the onslaught of good reasons why she should be left alone. She always uses actual explanations instead of excuses.  _"I know how to cook, I know how to save myself in an emergency, and I know when to ask for help. I'll even check in with you every night until you get back."_  She then sighs and in the saddest voice I have ever heard come from her lips, she says,  _"Please? I could use the space. It'll help me get over Sango and Haru."_

"Alright, you can stay home alone," I agree with a sigh. There is not an argument I can use against her, she is seventeen and has proven time and again that she is responsible enough to take care of herself without assistance. "Just make sure you call every night and don't go out past nine."

" _I promise!"_  she says, sounding thrilled at the prospect of being home alone. I frown when I hear the glee in her voice; she is growing up way too damn fast.  _"Bye, I need to get ready for tennis tonight! We're having an afternoon practice to warm up for the game tonight."_

"Okay, bye honey, I lo—" I start, but she hangs up before I can finish.

"Sounds like that went well," says Raku flatly and I can understand her position. We have never permitted Noriko to stay home without someone present, even if it is just Koji, we are not sure what she might do with this new freedom.

I shrug as I put my phone away. "She's seventeen. It would be weird if we insisted that she have a babysitter. She might question it, and then that could lead down some interesting rabbit holes." I look over at my wife of eighteen years, the woman who gave me my only child, and who has been my partner in business and pleasure for so long. "Do you remember how we met?"

Raku's tense gaze softens, and she nods.

"I was visiting the Chief's grave," I continue, my voice soft. "You were visiting Raye's, putting golden lilies on his headstone and I asked you why. You told me they were Raye's favorite flowers and I told you that I wished I knew the Chief's so I could do the same." I chuckle slightly. "We stood and talked about our respective losses until the sun started to set and I asked you if you wanted to get some coffee. You told me you would, but you had a flight to catch the next morning."

"And you impulsively and foolishly gave me your business card," she says, glancing at me with a small smile. "You told me to call you the moment I was free and started to leave. I pulled out my cell phone and called you right then and there. It sounds so cheesy."

"Well, it worked," I say, reaching over to hold her hand. "We went out for dinner, and I walked you back to your hotel. I kissed your cheek, and you went back to the States the next day. Then you called me, and I don't think we stopped talking that night."

Raku chuckles and shakes her head. "We were both in our late twenties and talking on the phone like a couple of teenagers. We did that quite a few times if I recall."

"We did," I say with a nod. "It was fun. I think Aizawa thought I was developing insomnia, I was half asleep when I came into work but I wasn't, I was talking to the most incredible woman in the world."

"When did everything become complicated?" she asks, looking at me, her dark blue eyes full of pain and longing. She is like me, longing for when things were simpler when we were blissfully ignorant of so much.

"When Misa asked us to take her baby," I reply, looking out of the window again. We are already parked in the hotel parking lot. "When Light picked up the Death Note for the first time. When we realized just how hopeless our actions are."

Raku nods and she squeezes my hand. "I've been thinking about that day a lot lately. She showed up at your house out of the blue and begged you to take Noriko because she wasn't going to live long? That doesn't make any sense. It didn't then, and it doesn't now." She looks at me, and I see that familiar fire in her eyes, the fire that only burns when she is on a case when she is close to unraveling a well-constructed plot. "Touta, why would she give up her baby with Light? The man she loved more than her own life. Why would she then take her life?"

My heart thrums with excitement. Maybe her obedience to Near is not as complete as I thought. "She wouldn't, not willingly. She didn't even consider it until after Near spoke with her. Then she just showed up and asked, begged us until we said yes. We weren't even married or engaged then, but she still wanted us to have her baby, all she wanted in return was to name it."

"Exactly," she says, squeezing my hand tighter. "Touta, I think she was manipulated by Near into giving Noriko to us so he could keep an eye on her. He knew that without some sort of opening, he would never be permitted close to her and us adopting her is exactly what he needed."

"How do you think he did it?" I ask, my excitement spilling into my voice.

Raku looks away for a moment, biting her lower lip and I know that means she is uneasy about what she wants to say. She probably feels that it goes against everything she knows. "I think you were right, your theory that is. Remember when you told me how strange Mikami acted before his death? How he willfully disobeyed Light's explicit orders when before he followed them to the letter?"

I nod, glad that she is finally taking this seriously.

"I've been thinking about that as well," she continues, looking right at me now as she speaks, her voice clear and firm. "Misa acted weird before her death too. She gives up the baby she conceived with Light to the man she knows killed him, claiming she's too depressed and will end her life, then she makes all sorts of elaborate arrangements for Noriko, including giving you money when our agreement never said we needed any financial assistance. She even includes a stipend for Light's family. Then when she nearly dies giving birth to Noriko, she seems less convinced about dying but still gives her to us. Finally, she comes around almost every day until her death. If she were so certain about dying, why didn't she just kill herself after she had her? Why did she wait until a year after Light's death? Why on Valentine's Day? If she wanted to be with him, she should've done it sooner."

"Yeah, I always found that strange, too," I say, holding my breath. "I never thought she truly wanted to die. She was sad, yes but Noriko seemed to give her a purpose. She threw herself into being a mom, even if it was from a distance. I think she knew something was wrong, so she let us have Nori to protect her."

"You're right," says Raku and I can sense her theory coming. "She loved Noriko, desperately loved her, and was the one who convinced me to become a mother myself one day. I don't think she left this world by choice, Touta." The fire in her eyes blazes and I squeeze her hands encouragingly. "I think Near used a Death Note to kill her."


	8. Monster

I watch from the sidelines as Rika chases after the ball served her way. Hers is the final match of the night, the one that will ultimately determine if we continue to the next round of the tournament or not. Our team and the other are tied, and it's to be expected, they've been our most significant rivals since before I entered high school, and it seems the rivalry has only increased since I joined the team. Rika is doing well tonight, her form is flawless, and her serves have been resulting in point after point. There have been a few decent volleys between her and her opponent but not for very long; they're both too good to not score in less than half a minute.

"Good job, Hatori!" I shout when she scores a point to tie with the other girl and watch as her cheeks redden just slightly. I want to cheer her on more, but I'm pretty sure that will distract her, and I don't want to be responsible for her loss.

The entire team is on edge when she starts to bounce the tennis ball. This is it, the final point, the moment that will make or break tonight. I hold my breath as she throws the ball over her head and watch almost in slow motion as it comes back down towards the earth; her racket lifts up and strikes the fuzzy surface, sending it sailing over the net and towards her opponent. I am on my feet, watching the ball's course as it heads for the neglected corner; it's a typical move and probably could be considered Rika's signature. I glance up at the other girl, and my heart starts to sink. She's already moving and appears to have expected this trick; she crosses the distance and effortlessly strikes the ball, sending it back over the net. She is throwing the ball towards Rika's unguarded position as well.

I look at Rika, she only just starts to move as the ball clears the first line past the net and I sit back down. With a heavy heart, I watch as Rika lunges for the ball, her racket outstretched and body fully in the act as she tries to save the return and send it back over. She may be able to get her racket under it, but it won't do any good, there won't be enough momentum behind it. Around me, the others are on their feet, holding hands and each other as they wait to see what will happen. I remain seated, already aware of the outcome and wishing it could be different.

My eyes are glued to Rika as she underestimates where the ball will go and falls flat on her face while the ball bounces behind her. The court is quiet save for the dull thud of the ball as it jumps away from Rika before finally rolling and coming to a stop in front of my foot. Seconds later, the opposing team's stands erupt in cheers, and their squad rushes to embrace the girl responsible for their win and our defeat. We solemnly look at each other and resign ourselves to our fate; it seems like we won't be defending our three-year championship title.

Slowly I stand up and walk over to where Rika is still lying sprawled on the tennis court, I can hear her crying, and my heart hurts for her; she tried, and she gave it everything she had, but it wasn't enough. I kneel down and take her free hand in mine, squeezing it gently to gain her attention. She looks over at me, and her cheeks flush red again, I smile kindly at her, and together we get her off of the ground. I glance down and notice that her knees are scratched and a little bloody, as is the skin under her arms, and I sigh before pulling her into a tight embrace. Rika is tense for a moment before she relaxes and returns the hug, burying her face in the crook of my neck. I feel hot tears soak into my jersey and skin, but I don't push her away, she certainly doesn't need that right now. This isn't her fault; it was merely a miscalculation, a small error that anyone could've made in her position.

"It's okay," I whisper as I rub comforting circles on her back. "It's okay, Rika."

"B-But w-w-we l-l-lo-ost," she sobs, and I hold her tighter.

"You need to calm down," I say kindly. There will be time to discuss the loss later. "We need to get you back into the locker room, okay? Maybe get you some tea?"

Rika nods, but she makes no move to leave just yet. Instead, she holds on to me tighter, and I let her; crush or not, she's my friend, and I'm not about to kick her when she's down. She deserves so much more than that.

"I can't believe we won!" I hear one of the other girls exclaim. "That was so close!"

"I know! But I guess we just proved we're the better team."

"Right? Look at that girl who lost; she's so pathetic. Crying over something like this."

My body tenses and I glare at the girls. They pretend not to see and giggle.

"Well, she was under a lot of pressure, I guess she just cracked."

"That still isn't an excuse. She should be a more gracious loser."

' _She is gracious!'_  I think angrily.  _'This is just how she processes intense emotion.'_

"God, what a crybaby, her other teammates aren't crying and they lost. She just needs to grow up and mature a bit."

"Maybe that's why she lost; tennis is too hard for a three-year-old."

They start to laugh louder, and my restraint snaps like a toothpick when Rika breaks down crying even more.

"You're the ones acting immature!" I shout letting go of Rika and pushing her aside; she nearly falls over from my rough shoves. I stride over to the opposite side of the net where they are gathered. They stare at me with wide eyes and sneers on their lips. "You say she isn't a gracious loser, but you're behaving like sore winners." I can feel my temper rising with each passing second, and I hardly care, they insulted my friend and are completely out of line. "God, you all are just a bunch of assholes!"

That grabs their attention, and one of the girls rushes towards me, her eyes blazing with anger but I'm sure it's nothing compared to the inferno raging inside of me at the moment. "And who are you to say that? You're the one acting like a jerk!"

I smirk. Of course, she would not want to repeat what I said, one of those prim and proper girls that could never say a wrong word. She has apparently never spent time around drunken police officers. "I'm only calling you out for your poor behavior," I sneer, taking a step forward. I know I need to calm down before this escalates further; my "parents" always warned me about losing my temper, and I have the experience to tell me that I am close to losing control. "I guess you can give it but not take it."

The girl looks furious, and I'm satisfied with this outcome, so I turn around and start to head back to my team, hoping I can salvage my reputation. I need to get away from this situation and calm down, I'm getting too spun up, and I need to decompress before I do or say something I'll regret. Suddenly I feel something pull hard and sharply on my arm. I quickly whip around, my fist already raised before I can think and it connects with the other girl's face. I hear the crunch of bone, and her pained cry as my fist follows through with its action; all I see is red, and all I hear is the blood pounding in my ears. She deserves this; she's the one who grabbed me first, who provoked me. She deserves this.

The girl falls to the ground, and I follow, landing on top of her and start hitting her in as many places as I can, as hard as I can. I can hear her scream, and I listen to others screaming around me, horrified and begging me to stop but I can't; she needs to be punished and put in her place, she was wrong, and I need to bring her to justice. Why can't they see that? She was the one who started this and now I will end it.

"Matsuda!" I hear someone shout before someone grabs my arms, pinning them to my sides from behind and pulling me away. I kick and scream, demanding that they let me go but they don't, and I'm dragged back to the other side of the court. I'm roughly put on the bench, and my assailant comes around and keeps my wrists pinned to my side. I keep my head down, and the person kneels in front of me to get in my line of view. It's my coach.

"Bus, Matsuda," she says sternly, and I can see the disappointment in her eyes, but I don't care, that bitch got what she deserved. "Hatori, are you okay?"

My head shoots up, and I look immediately at Rika who is nodding and shaking at the same time. I feel sorry that I caused her that much distress and I open my mouth to apologize, but she looks away from me. My stomach drops and I suddenly feel hot.

"Let's go, girls," says Coach as she stands, letting me go, and I sit and wait until I'm the last person to leave.

I stand up with my racket and glance in the direction of the other team. The girl is covered in blood and holding her nose. My stomach flips, and I feel even hotter as I walk away, my head down.

* * *

The bus ride back to school is quiet and not just because we lost. I'm sitting alone in the back while the other girls are a good six seats away from me and I can hardly blame them. My temper is horrible and something I keep hidden for this reason. This is not the first time I've attacked someone, I used to throw things at people in elementary school, but this is the first time I've physically assaulted someone. Whenever I'm angry, I feel righteous and justified in what I do be it yelling or screaming or insulting or whatever. Afterwards, I feel horrible and guilty. Right now, I feel like the lowest scum on the planet.

I brutally attacked a girl and probably severely injured her. I scared one of my closest friends, embarrassed my school and my team, and made myself into some sort of monster. I don't even want to think about what Matsuda and Raku are going to say when they get back and have to speak to my principal. I don't even want to think what Light and Misa would have said or done in this situation. Both sets of parents probably wish I was never their daughter.

I bring my knees up and tuck them under my chin, holding them tightly as I watch the streetlights pass by; I can see myself in the window, and it makes me want to look away. My face is covered in blood spatter, my shirt is soaked with what my face didn't catch, and my knuckles are cut and scratched up. I look like a monster.

"How could she do that?" I hear someone whisper.

"Forget that I can't believe she's so violent!"

"It's always the quiet ones."

"Poor Hatori, she's probably scarred for life."

"I know I am."

"What a freak."

"Quiet! She might hear and freak out!"

The whispering stops and I hide my face against my knees. Me and my stupid temper. There's no way switching schools is going to fix this mess. I'm probably going to be sued and charged with assault and then expelled. I won't be able to take the entrance exams and get into To-Oh, I won't be able to work as a detective; anyone applying can't have a criminal history, and this will certainly count. In five minutes, I destroyed my future.

When we arrive at school, I'm the last one to get off and the last one to get my things. I can't even bring myself to look at Coach or Rika, so I just start walking towards home, my heart heavy and my mind wandering down dark alleys I haven't visited since I was twelve.

" _You screwed up, you idiot. Now it doesn't matter whose child you are, none of them want you. You haven't changed at all. You're just as crazy now as you were then. Hell, probably crazier because you tried to kill someone this time! God, what is wrong with you? Why can't you just act like a normal person for once in your life? Is that so hard? Apparently, it is."_

"I thought I had it under control," I say to myself quietly. "I haven't had an episode in almost five years."

" _Yeah right; remember seventh grade? You snapped at everyone who you thought looked at you funny. Did the same thing during your first year of high school, you even insulted people sometimes, and honestly, it's amazing you didn't kill Sango in all that time. What she did was worse than a bunch of girls gloating about winning."_

"But they were upsetting Rika," I argue.

" _So? Rika was upset anyway. She was going to be fine, but no, you had to take everything they said personally and defend your friend. Were you defending her or were you doing it to take out your frustrations? Tennis helped with controlling those urges but evidently, once tennis is over, so is your control. You're better off dead. You don't have a future now. You threw all of that away for a minute of self-indulgent vengeance."_

I stop walking and look around. I'm standing alone on a bridge.

" _Good, you're finally listening to me. You don't have anything going for you anymore, come Monday, everyone will know what you did and about that part of you they always suspected but could never confirm. You can end it now, you can take yourself out of the picture entirely, and no one would care. Your so-called parents will be glad you are out of their lives."_

I put down my things.

" _Your friends will be too; they'll be so relieved not to have to walk on eggshells around you anymore. They know about that side, and it's why they held you at arm's length. They didn't want a monster like you getting too close."_

I climb up the railing.

" _You did this to yourself. You knew what you were doing, and you enjoyed it. You loved hitting that girl, bringing her to justice as you claimed. You wanted her to hurt and feel the same pain you did. You're disgusting. Who would possibly want you? Who would even want to try? You're a monster, a horrible creature that should be put down. Do it yourself before they have the chance."_

I start to lean forward.

' _Koji.'_

"Stop!"

I stop and barely have time to catch myself before I feel a pair of arms wrap around my middle and pull me back. I don't even fight back; I just let whoever this is, act like a hero for a moment. They'll regret it the second they see my current state.

"What the hell were you thinking, Noriko?" I hear the person ask and it startles me. How do they know me?

I look behind me and nearly scream when I see Ritsu Saga's bright green eyes. I immediately struggle against him, and he lets me go, but he doesn't move even as I push myself away, trying to put some distance between us. Of course, it had to be him.

"Ritsu!" I say, hiding my face behind my hands and curling up against the bridge's railing, hoping he didn't see any blood. "What're you doing here?"

"I was heading home after tutoring," he says somewhat annoyed. "Then I saw you standing on a bridge and trying to throw yourself off. What the hell, Noriko? Were you trying to give me a heart attack or something?"

"I didn't see you!" I snap, wishing that he would just go away and leave me alone. I've already alienated enough people for one night. "I didn't think anyone was here. It was perfect."

"Please tell me you weren't doing what I think you were," says Ritsu, sounding angry now.

"And if I was?" I argue, pushing my hands harder into my face.

"Then I'm glad I went home this way," he says, and I almost move my hands away just to see what he looks like right now. "What happened, Noriko? What was so terrible that you thought that was the only solution?"

"I can't tell you," I reply quietly. "You'd hate me even more."

"I know we don't know each other well," says Ritsu slowly and I hear him moving around, "but I can safely say that I don't hate you."

"Trust me, you would," I say, shrinking away as I hear him get closer. "You should just go home. Your mom and dad are probably wondering where you are."

"And they'd be very disappointed in me when I told them that I left you alone," he argues, and his hand encircles my wrist. "Put your arms down, Noriko. I already saw the blood. Your knuckles look like crap anyway, so you aren't hiding anything."

I relent and move my hands, I observe his reaction and there is only a flicker of surprise in his eyes when my face is revealed.

"What happened?" he repeats, looking at me with concern I don't deserve.

"I attacked someone," I say quietly, my gaze going to my lap. "I was at a tennis tournament, and my friend was the last match to decide the winner. She lost, and the other team started making fun of her for it, and for the fact she was crying." I look at the blood on my shirt and fight down the urge to vomit. "I don't know why I lost my temper; I was just so angry about the whole situation. I yelled at the other girls and tried to get them to shut up because they were upsetting Rika. I tried to walk away, I did, but some girl came up and grabbed me, and I swung at her. I think I broke her nose." I look at my knuckles. "I snapped after that. I just kept punching her, I couldn't stop, and I didn't stop until my coach dragged me off of her."

I tentatively glance up at Ritsu and find him looking at me, his green eyes fixed only on me and I feel small in his gaze. I feel ugly and dirty, and low and I just want him to stop looking at me like that like I didn't do something wrong. Like I'm worthy of sympathy.

"And that's why you wanted to kill yourself? Because you hurt someone else?" he asks softly.

"Partially," I admit, looking back at my lap. "I don't have a future anymore, Ritsu. If that girl's family is smart, they'll sue me, and I'll be charged with assault. I'll more than likely be expelled and unable to take my entrance exams. I won't get into university, and I definitely won't become a detective. You can't have a criminal record, and an assault charge is certainly not welcome in that field."

"Yeah, I can see why that's problematic," says Ritsu, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can understand why you thought this was hopeless, too. What I can't understand is how quickly you settled on suicide. I mean that couldn't have happened more than a couple of hours ago."

"My mind works fast," I say with a watery chuckle. I will not cry, not now, not in front of him. It's the only piece of dignity I have right left. "Anyway, you should probably just head on home. I'll be fine."

Ritsu doesn't seem convinced. "I already told you, my parents would be disappointed in me if I left you alone and I don't think I could live with myself if I left you like this. You're obviously upset, and if your mind went that quickly to suicide, you'd probably try again. I'm not about to risk your life, Noriko." He stands up and then extends his hand to me. "Is your foster family home?"

I shake my head as I take his hand and I pull myself up. "No, they're out of town."

His eyes widen. "And they didn't take you?"

"It was a last minute trip, and I had my game tonight," I say with a shrug. It takes me a moment to realize that we haven't let go yet. Ritsu notices and quickly drops my hand, his cheeks turning a dark pink in the process and I try not to smile; he's too cute for his own good.

"Then I guess you're coming home with me," he says with a shy grin before his mind catches up with his mouth. "I-I-I didn't mean it like that! I just meant I would take you home and that doesn't sound any better—"

"I know what you meant," I interrupt giving him a small smile. "Don't worry, Ritsu; I don't take you for anything less than a gentleman."

Ritsu's blush only increases and I giggle just slightly. "What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing," I say coyly as I pick up my bag, only to have him take it and I take it back. "I can carry my bag, Ritsu; it's fine."

"I know," he says as he takes it back and slings it over his shoulder. "But a true gentleman would never let a lady carry her own things, especially when she's injured."

"This was my own stupid fault," I say with a sigh as I try to take it back, only for him to pull it out of reach. "I can't be called a lady after what I did."

"Well, maybe I should just call you Noriko then," he says and this time we both blush. "If you don't want to be called a lady, then I guess I need to call you something else and nothing else fits except that."

I feel my stomach flutter a little, and I look away, suddenly too shy to meet his gaze. "I guess that's fine. Probably better than what I'm going to be called come Monday."

"They're not going to call you anything, Noriko," says Ritsu as we start walking towards his family's restaurant. I didn't even realize I was back in that part of town I was so out of it earlier. "They're going to be too afraid of you to say anything directly."

I shoot him a withering glare, and he chuckles.

"Too soon?" he asks a little nervously, and I nod. "Sorry."

I shrug. "Don't worry about it; I'm not going to hit you over something like that. It'd have to be something much more incidental."

Ritsu looks at me curiously before he realizes that I just attempted a joke and starts laughing. It wasn't an excellent joke, but apparently, he just found the whole context amusing, and I can't help but join in; this will probably be the last time for a long time that I see a reason to laugh.

* * *

When we arrive at Ritsu's house, Mei is on me almost instantly, pulling me into the bathroom and tossing a wet washcloth at me while simultaneously demanding answers. I can already hear Yoshito busy in the kitchen below, probably making me another bowl of beef stew. I apologize several times to Mei as she fusses over me, even going to the trouble of bringing me a pair of clothes that are slightly too big for her but are just my size.

"Noriko, please stop apologizing," she finally says after the twentieth time. "You aren't putting us out or making us do something we'll regret later. We just want to help you."

"But you hardly know me," I argue as she starts to turn on the shower. "I just keep causing you trouble."

Mei smirks at me as she adjusts the temperature of the water. "I admit that I didn't expect to see you so soon, but I can hardly complain. You were pleasant company the other night, and it's so nice to have another girl to talk to; I love my son and husband dearly, but I do wish I had a couple of daughters to balance out the testosterone. Anyway, get in and clean yourself up, I'll see what I can do about your uniform."

I nod as she walks out of the room with my clothes. I was supposed to change before I got on the bus but Coach more or less pushed me on while the others changed and I can understand why she didn't want to risk me hurting or upsetting someone else. I must have looked terrifying.

I undo the robe I changed into and get into the shower, relishing the feel of hot water on my skin, and I turn it up just a little bit more. I need to feel clean; I need to be clean. Otherwise, I'll still look like the monster inside. I scrub my skin until it is red and raw and stinging under the hot water but I don't care; I at least know it's clean. My knuckles have gone numb from the heat of the water, and I scrub them too, watching as dried blood turns into rust with the water and goes down the drain. It feels good to look at least human, even if it's only a disguise.

When I finish my shower, I towel off and change into the clothes Mei left for me, and I make sure to clean up whatever mess remains in the bathroom before I head back out. I enter the living room and see Ritsu rolling out a futon in front of the television and couch, Mei is busy talking to Yoshito in their kitchen, and a steaming bowl is sitting on the dining room table. Ritsu looks up and smiles when he sees me, gesturing silently for me to go eat and I nod before heading over. From the corner of my eye, I see him stare at my feet and hands; they are bright red from the hot water. I sit down at the table and quietly begin eating wondering if Ritsu told them the circumstances under which he found me and I glance at the man in question. He seems to be taking his time with the futon, almost as if he is avoiding having to interact with his family or me entirely. I can understand, this is probably awkward, and he doesn't want to be seen as a bad host.

"Thank you," I say a few minutes later after I've finished my meal. I stand up and take the bowl with me to the kitchen. I smile at Mei and Yoshito before I start washing the bowl, spoon, and chopsticks, making sure the water is hot and the sponge full of suds as I begin scrubbing. I'm probably the world's worst houseguest, but I'll be damned if I don't clean up after myself, the least I can do for imposing once again.

"You didn't have to do that," says Mei kindly and I brush it off with a wave.

"Of course I did, it's the least I can do for you after tonight," I say with a smile that even I can tell is false. "Anyway, you don't have to let me stay here. I can change into my regular clothes and leave."

Mei shakes her head. "Don't be silly; we don't mind having you stay here. We'd rather know you were here than out on the streets again."

' _So Ritsu did tell them. Well, I guess it only makes sense.'_

"I don't mind," I continue, knowing this is pointless but I don't want just to give in, they've been far too helpful for me even to look like I'm taking advantage.

Mei presses her lips into a thin line. "Noriko, you're staying here with us, and that's final. I don't want to hear any more arguments. You are a welcomed guest here, and I won't hear you say otherwise. We're perfectly capable of kicking people out, just ask Ritsu's friend Sora. We've kicked him out several times for being rude and inconsiderate."

"She's right," says Ritsu with a slight huff. "I have to go over to his place now because he's terrified of setting foot in here."

I snort and Yoshito snickers while Mei shrugs.

"I don't put up with rude guests," she says simply before she puts a hand on my shoulder. "Now listen, you're going to stay up and talk with us for a little while, then we're all going to bed and tomorrow we'll get up, and I'll make pancakes while you and Ritsu argue over what to watch on TV. Then you're going to help us down in the restaurant until close, or you feel tired, and then you're either going to stay here again or go home. It will happen in that order, and I won't hear another word against it."

I nod, and she smiles. She guides me by the shoulder, and we sit in the living room and talk, just as she said. No one brings up my suicide attempt, no one asks me why I was covered in blood, they merely ask about my life, and I ask about theirs in return. When the clock strikes the hour, we bid each other good night, and I settle into the futon, listening to the unfamiliar sounds that feel familiar to me. I close my eyes and fall into the brief illusion that everything really will be all right and that today never happened.


	9. Cold

I hang up the phone and stare out of the window in our hotel room. I can hear Raku in the other room speaking with Lidner about some investigation she's working on, and I thank my lucky stars that she is otherwise occupied. My phone call was from Noriko's coach, informing me in a very blunt manner than my daughter assaulted another student. Apparently, the tennis tournament didn't exactly go according to expectations, and Noriko was comforting the teammate that lost her final match when several girls began taunting them. From what the coach said, Noriko didn't back down and threw back almost everything she got; she used some choice language but that didn't bother me, she grew up hearing that from my friends and me, so of course, she knew how to use it. Her coach continued to say that Noriko did try to separate herself from the situation by walking away when the other girl grabbed her arm and Noriko threw a hard punch.

Evidently, her fist connected with the other girl's nose and when she went to the ground, Noriko got on top of her and continued to punch her until the coach pulled her off. I asked the coach about injuries, and she said Noriko's only wounds were cut and bruised knuckles, the other girl had to be rushed to the hospital. I nearly dropped my phone when she said that.

I find it ironic that I just defended her temper to Near, saying that she had improved and could control it, and only hours later I get a phone call telling me that she did what we always thought she was capable of. She hurt someone. This will be all of the evidence Near needs to enforce his twisted desire to have Noriko under constant surveillance and his control, likely going to cite that this display of violence will ultimately lead to her transformation into Kira. I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh heavily. What kind of miracle will it take to prove that Noriko is nothing like Light? She isn't a calculated manipulator, she doesn't use others just to achieve her ends, and she genuinely cares about the people around her. If she didn't, then she wouldn't have attacked her friend's bullies. Yes, she was way out of line with what she did, but her heart was in the right place.

I asked the coach what we needed to do and she said that she'd inform the principal and there will be a meeting on Monday. Noriko will likely be formally charged with assault, and the school will expel her; not even her test scores and grades will be enough leverage to convince them to keep her. I knew that already but I just wanted to ask, Noriko's worked so hard to prove to us and the rest of her peers that she can succeed and now, all of that work has gone to waste. With her expulsion, she will be unable to take her entrance exams, and that will prevent her from entering To-Oh University. Her criminal record will prevent her from entering the police academy, and she'll never become a detective. Everything she's been working hard to achieve will never happen.

"Oh god," I say quietly as I sit down, unable to stand any longer. My child's future is ruined, and there's nothing I can do to fix it, not this time. I miss the days when this kind of trouble was fixed by switching schools and paying small fines; this is something else, something that I doubt even a lawyer can smooth over.

My phone begins to vibrate, and I look at it, frowning when I see an unknown number, and I answer, "Matsuda."

" _Hello, are you Noriko Matsuda's guardian?"_  asks a female voice on the other end.

"I am. To whom am I speaking?" I ask, dread creeping into my stomach.

" _My name's Mei Saga,"_  says Mei calmly.  _"I'm Ritsu Saga's mother; our children are acquaintances of sorts I suppose."_

"A pleasure," I say with a forced smile.  _'What does this woman want?'_

" _Listen, I'm not sure how much you know, but Noriko had a terrible day,"_  says Mei sounding hesitant.  _"It was so bad in fact, that my son found her trying to jump off of a bridge."_

If I hadn't already been sitting, my legs would've given out immediately. Even now I feel like I won't be able to get up and walk. "You mean she...?"

" _Yes,"_  says Mei quietly.  _"He had to pull her off, and when he saw her, he couldn't leave her alone, so he brought her to our house. She's fine, just shaken and quiet, but nothing's wrong other than . . . well, I'm going to be frank with you Mr. Matsuda, she was covered in blood."_

"I see," I say, feeling my chest deflate as the reality of the situation starts to sink in. Noriko must've been feeling terrible about what she did and thought that the only way out was . . . No, I need to stop and calm down. My child just attempted to kill herself and her savior's mother is on the phone. "Was it her blood?"

" _I'm afraid not,"_  replies Mei, sounding tired.  _"From what my son said, Noriko was in an altercation earlier tonight, and that's where the blood came from. She's in the shower right now cleaning up, and I would like to have her stay the night."_  She lets out a shaky breath.  _"I know from personal experience how dangerous it is to let someone be left alone in that mindset."_

My heart lurches. "I'm sorry," I say kindly. "And yes, Noriko can stay as long as you deem necessary. My wife and I are out of town and won't be back until late on Sunday. It would probably be best if Noriko stayed with you until we can see her on Monday."

" _I was thinking along those lines as well,"_  says Mei with a strained chuckle.  _"I've never met a person who could come barreling into life quite like her. Our kids might attend school together, but they never formally met until the other night when Noriko came into our restaurant looking to escape some bikers."_

"Bikers?" I repeat. Noriko never mentioned being harassed by bikers.

" _Yes, apparently she made a wrong turn and ran into some unsavory characters,"_  replies Mei with the calmness that only someone in control can exude.  _"She was smart about it and ran into our restaurant where I'm sure she knew there would be people and a place to hide. Afterwards, she and my son hit it off. Of course, he's had a crush on her for quite a while."_

In the background, I can hear a young man groan,  _"Mom!"_

I can't help but chuckle a little. At least Noriko is with people who seem to understand the gravity of the situation, and she isn't alone. I would be racing back if she were.

" _Well, the man has a right to know,"_  argues Mei and I chuckle again.  _"It's his daughter, and he needs to know what kind of people are looking after her." A pause. "He does so need to know that you have a crush on her! He might think we were kidnappers or something, hell he might think that now!"_

"If you are, you're pretty bad at it," I say, and she laughs.

" _I guess as a detective you'd know,"_  agrees Mei and I raise an eyebrow.

"How did you know I'm a detective?" I ask curiously.

" _Oh, I used to be a paralegal for a prosecutor,"_  she replies.  _"Of course that was before my husband, and I opened our restaurant. Anyway, I used to see you quite frequently with Chief Aizawa, or I guess he's Deputy Director according to some of my former colleagues. When Ritsu told me Noriko's last name, I knew exactly who you were."_

"It's a fairly common name," I counter, and I can almost hear her shrug.

" _Yes, but not many would have daughters aspiring to be detectives just like her guardian,"_  argues Mei and I wonder why she didn't just become a prosecutor herself.  _"I think it's fantastic that you took Noriko in and even gave her your last name. I've never met many foster families that go the extra mile like that."_

"Foster family?" I repeat uneasily.

" _I'm sorry, is it adopted family?"_  asks Mei, sounding genuinely confused.  _"I suppose that would make more sense. Anyway, whichever, she obviously idolizes you, and she adores her brother Koji, every time she mentioned him she practically glowed. It's not often that adoptive siblings get along so well, you're fortunate."_

I barely manage not to correct her and say that Koji and Noriko were raised as biological siblings. "It seems you know a great deal about my family, Mei and I only know a little bit about you and your son, who saved my daughter's life."

" _Yes, that is quite the predicament,"_  agrees Mei, obviously understanding the subtle invitation.  _"I know! Why don't you and your family come to our restaurant for dinner? We can get better acquainted then, and you can formally thank Ritsu for his heroic efforts."_

"That would be great," I say, trying to sound upbeat. "How about next Wednesday? My family isn't incredibly busy then."

" _That's perfect,"_  says Mei happily.  _"The restaurant should be fairly empty on that day, and it would give us a chance to make something special! Of course, my husband would argue that his beef stew is special."_

"I wouldn't want to put you out," I say with a slight grimace. I really should've asked Raku's opinion but I also really want to meet the people responsible for keeping Noriko in one piece on probably the worst night of her life. "Beef stew would be just fine, in fact, it's one of my son's favorites."

" _Wonderful!"_  says Mei happily.  _"Alright, I'll see you at six on Wednesday. I hope you enjoy your trip and don't worry about Noriko; she's safe with us."_

"Thank you again," I say sincerely. "You have no idea how much my wife and I appreciate you looking after her."

" _I'm just glad I could help,"_  says Mei quietly.  _"Goodbye."_

"Goodbye," I say, and we hang up.

I lean back in my chair and put my phone in my jacket pocket. Of all the things that could've happened today, the last thing I thought would be that my daughter would assault someone and then try to commit suicide. Not to mention she was harassed by bikers and had to take refuge in a strange restaurant. We left her alone for two days, and everything went to hell.

"Lidner's almost done in Milan," says Raku as she comes out of the other room. "Apparently she found a lead this morning and is going to pursue it later." She comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. I tense, and I can feel her do the same. "Touta, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Everything," I reply softly, and she immediately lets go of me. "Noriko lost her temper and assaulted a girl at the tennis tournament."

"She did what?!" exclaims Raku and I watch from the corner of my eye as she sits in the chair beside mine.

"She assaulted a girl," I say again, running my hand through my slightly grey hair. I swear most of the grey is from worrying about Noriko. "From what her coach said, they lost, and the other girls were being rather poor sports about winning and making fun of Nori's friend Rika Hatori. Nori verbally went after them, and things turned physical when the girl grabbed her arm. She didn't punch her or anything, but Noriko certainly let the girl have it; apparently, she ended up in the hospital with a badly broken nose."

Raku shakes her head and leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "Damn it."

"Looks like he'll get his way," I say coldly. "There's more."

"What? Did she kill someone?" asks Raku bitterly.

"She tried to kill herself," I reply, and Raku looks shocked. "I just got off the phone with the mother of the young man who pulled her off a bridge."

Raku gasps and I sink back into my chair, a headache brewing behind my eyes.

"There's one more thing," I say, and I see Raku tense. "I think she knows that she's adopted. The woman I spoke to was under the impression that I'm either Nori's adoptive father or foster father. I highly doubt Noriko said on a whim."

"Oh Touta," she says softly. "We have to tell him."

"I know," I say quietly. "And I know what'll happen when we do."

Raku takes my hand. "Maybe this is for the best. She's obviously getting out of hand, and he's in a better position to look after her—"

"She's only "out of hand" because we left her alone!" I snap, snatching my hand away. "If we were there for her, none of this would've happened!"

"So you want to continue raising a girl who can't be left by herself for a weekend?" asks Raku scathingly. "Touta, whether you like it or not, our influence wouldn't have made a difference. She loves to rebel and do things we tell her not to, like when we told her not to show off about being smarter than the majority of the class, what did she do? Made it a point to be number one. We told her to take it easy in tennis and enjoy it, to not compete at school and she did the exact opposite. We told her to be careful about the people she associated with and what does she do? Befriends the first people who are nice to her and look at what that got her. Face it, she's a rebel and will always be a rebel. We can't continue to care for her, and you know that."

"You were certainly singing a different tune earlier," I sneer. "You were all for us keeping her out of Near's hands, and now, you're going to give her to him on a silver platter. What a hypocrite."

Raku glares at me. "I'm not hypocritical! I'm trying to think of the future, and right now, all I'm imagining is us running after Noriko for the rest of our lives cleaning up her messes. Then when we die, Koji will be the one to look after her. We can't live like that, Touta! As much as I don't want him to have her, we can't control her on our own. If this weekend is any indication of what's to come, we'll never be able to leave her alone again, and I'm not about to have her living in my house where she might hurt my son or us."

"She would never do that," I say firmly.

"Just like how you said she would never attack someone?" Raku retorts, throwing my words in my face. "Touta, I know you love her, I know you see her as your daughter but you need to face the fact that she isn't, she never was. She was always someone temporarily in our lives, who at the first sign of trouble would be whisked away to be looked after by someone else. I know you feel like you owe it to Soichiro but you don't, and I'm sure he'd understand."

I roll my eyes. It's a cold and low move to bring the Chief into this. "Understand what? That I abandoned his only grandchild when things got tough? That I gave her to someone whose sole objective in life is to poke and prod and see what happens? Oh yeah, I can see him understanding my decision."

Raku sighs heavily. "I know you aren't Near's biggest fan, but the only reason we even have her is because of him. She was never going to be ours forever, no matter how much you wanted it. We're going to tell him what happened and we're going to deal with the fallout, whatever that may be." She pulls out her phone. "Now, do you want to do it or do you want me to?"

I remain silent, and she nods before standing up and heading back into the other room while I sit and fume. This is a betrayal, a blatant act of treason against the girl we agreed to raise as our daughter and now, she's going to be taken away from us. I let out a mirthless chuckle. I'm sure that now that she knows the truth, she probably will see it as a blessing to be away from us, I can only assume that she thought we were lying to her this entire time. That isn't entirely true and not entirely false either. I had every intention of telling Noriko at some point that she was adopted and give her access to her mother's things, Raku wanted to do it from the very beginning, but I forced her not to. I thought it would be better to try and bond with her, to show her that even though her biological family is gone, she still had us. I wanted her to see us as her family and not to care about blood relations.

Over the years, I thought I was somewhat successful at that. She bonded well with me, and Raku to a certain extent, and when Koji came, she leaped at the chance to be a big sister and showered him with love. I thought we had forged bonds stronger than blood, but maybe I was wrong this entire time. Perhaps the only reason she loved us was because she thought we were blood relatives, maybe now that she knows, she won't consider herself part of our family. She already told Mei Saga that we are her foster family, the furthest thing from a real family she could say without saying she's an orphan. I suppose I should be glad she didn't, that would've been an overly dramatic response and sound like something Light would say in the same situation.

I sigh as I remember my dead friend and enemy. "This is all your fault, you bastard," I mutter, glaring at the lights outside. "If you hadn't become Kira, none of this would've happened. I'm glad you're dead."

Suddenly a cold feeling cuts through my chest, and I hug myself against it as it overwhelms my senses. For a moment I swear I can hear Light's laugh and see his taunting smirk. I look at the window and gasp when I think I see Light's face staring back at me.

I hear something in my ear, something cold and quiet and reminds me of a breeze,  _"I'm glad you think so."_


	10. Deception

When Monday rolls around, I nearly cry, and I beg Mei to let me stay with her, but she disagrees and sends Ritsu and I both to school, which turns out to be the same school I attend.

"How have we never run into each other?" I ask incredulously as I take in the sight of him wearing my school's male uniform. I don't have my uniform on, just jeans and a nice shirt, as I didn't pack it and didn't bother to return home to retrieve it; at this point, I think a uniform infraction is the least of my concerns. I don't even have my satchel with my homework.

Ritsu shrugs as we start walking and I fall quickly into step with him. "It's a pretty big school. Maybe we have and never noticed?"

I shake my head. "No way, it would be impossible for me to forget your face."

We blush when we realize what I just said.

"S-Sorry," I stammer, looking down at the ground. "I-I just . . ."

"It's fine, Noriko," he says with a slight chuckle, and when I look at him, I can see the blush on his cheeks. "Want to know something funny?"

"Sure," I say with a nervous chuckle of my own.

"I almost didn't recognize you with all that makeup on the other night," he admits, the blush on his cheeks darkening.

I furrow my brow quizzically for a moment before I realize what he said and what it means. "Wait, you knew who I was?" I ask, pointing at myself, and he nods. "Now I feel like a jerk for not knowing you. Do we share any classes?"

Ritsu shakes his head. "No, we're in different classes, but I know your friend Haru. Weird guy, I've caught him staring at some red-haired girl and my friend Sora."

I let out a loud and very unladylike snort. "Oh god, Parisa would love to know that. She's had him pegged as either gay or bisexual since we met."

Ritsu chuckles. "I heard a rumor that he and the red-haired girl are dating. Guess Sora's out of luck now."

I frown slightly, of course, he would know about that. "I guess they are, as far as I know. I don't think it's official yet."

"I see," says Ritsu, glancing at me. I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face, and I try not to look at him; I don't want him to figure out why hearing about Haru and Sango makes me upset. "I'm sorry about the tennis tournament. I know you've been working hard for it."

"Yeah, no more morning practices for me," I say with a slight sigh as I realize where Ritsu might know me. "Ritsu, did you ever watch me practice?"

I watch as his face becomes almost beet red at the question and I know my answer before he even opens his mouth.

"Y-Yeah," he admits, looking like he wishes he were anywhere but here right now. "S-Sorry if that sounds weird, I know I sound like a stalker now. I think even my parents thought I was a stalker because on the days you'd practice, I was always at school early." He claps a hand over his mouth, and I can't help but smile.

"Now I'm really sad that I don't get to practice anymore," I say with a kind smile. "Unless you'd care to practice with me?"

Ritsu shakes his head. "Oh god no, I'm terrible at tennis. I'm much better at badminton and baseball."

"Maybe I should watch you practice then," I say slyly, watching as I set his blush off again. God, this boy is too cute for his good. "Baseball starts up soon, right?"

"Y-Yeah," he says with a slight stutter. "Anyway, what's your plan for today? I'm pretty sure you're convinced you're going to be expelled and charged with assault."

I sigh heavily. "Right, the reason why I got on my knees and begged your mom not to send me to school. Not exactly my finest moment."

"Maybe not," agrees Ritsu and I try not to glare at him for agreeing. "I used to do that when I was a kid, and she would always pick me up, dust off my knees and send me to school anyway. Good to know that it wasn't just because I'm her son."

"Do you think your parents would hire me?" I ask suddenly and without thinking. I thought about this last night as a possibility when I was kicked out of school and after I served out whatever sentence I was given for assault. "I mean, once all of this is settled, I wouldn't want to put your parents out any more than I already have."

Ritsu looks at me with a surprised expression. "I'm sure they would and why do you think you've put them out? My parents love to help other people, and I think they like you. They were so upset when I told them about you and the bridge—crap."

"It's fine," I say with a dismissive wave. "I already figured you'd told them and I completely understand. What happened last night wasn't something a high school student is typically prepared to deal with."

"That's true," he agrees and then his hand shoots out and grabs mine.

I almost fall over from the act and quickly right myself. It's then I realize that Ritsu is looking at me with intense interest and I barely dare to meet his gaze. His hand is hot in mine, and I wonder if the rest of him feels just as warm. It takes more restraint than I'll ever admit not to just fall against his chest and hope he holds me.

"Noriko, I don't regret it," he says, his voice drawing me from my thoughts. "I don't regret any of it. I'm glad I saved you, and I'm glad that you dove under that table. I would do everything the same, including this."

My cheeks are on fire, and I have the overwhelming urge to lean up and kiss him, right here and now. Who cares if we barely know each other? He's already saved my life once, and he's seen the ugliest part of my personality and didn't even flinch. That's more than I can say for my friends or Haru and they've known me for years; they would always pretend that my temper and outbursts didn't exist. Ritsu seems to accept it as just part of me. I give in and lean my head up, parting my lips only slightly, hoping that he'll get the message and not think about it too much. He cautiously squeezes my hand, and I watch as he starts to lean in as well, his green eyes half closed and lips half open. My heart pounds in my chest and I move to meet him halfway . . .

"Ritsu!" shouts a very unwelcome person and the voice breaks the tension between us.

Ritsu blinks at me a couple of times before he seems to register who just called him. He turns away from me and looks over his shoulder and gives a half smile to the person while I silently plot the many ways I can kill them without getting caught. Damn this person for interrupting what would have been my first kiss. Damn him to the most bottomless pits of hell.

"Hey Sora!" says Ritsu, winking at me knowingly. I suppose I get to meet the infamous Sora sooner rather than later.

A boy with black hair and blonde tips comes running up, slightly winded and uniform disheveled, as he stops long enough to catch his breath. He apparently hasn't noticed me yet, but I'm sure he will. When he lifts his head, he smiles at Ritsu before his brown eyes find me, and they widen almost comically when they land on our joined hands.

"Since when do you know Miss To-Oh?!" Sora demands, almost sounding hurt that his friend kept this a secret from him. "And since when do you hold her hand?! Isn't that like against every school rule?"

I frown sharply. Since when am I revered as some unattainable goddess? I look at Ritsu and almost expect him to drop my hand then and there, but he doesn't and just holds it tighter.

"She has a name, Sora, and it isn't Miss To-Oh," sighs Ritsu, giving me an apologetic look as we start walking again, this time holding hands. Sora trails behind us, still panting. "Oh and Noriko, this is my basket case friend Sora. Sora, this is Noriko, you're revered Miss To-Oh."

"Don't ever call me that," I say, looking at them both, the warning clear in my voice and Ritsu and Sora nod. "I hate that nickname, and I don't know what I did to deserve it."

"How about getting top marks on the national exams?" suggests Sora, only to be glared at by Ritsu. "What? It's true. No one's scored that high since Light Yagami took the exams however many years ago that was." He then looks at me with a slightly confused expression. "You know, you look pretty good for someone who had the crap beat out of her this weekend."

My heart nearly stops. "What do you mean?" I ask cautiously, glancing at Ritsu who seems just as confused as me.

"At the tennis tournament," Sora elaborates and I nearly trip from shock. "I heard all about from that girl Rika Hatori. She said you were comforting her and that some chic decided that it would be fun to needle you and you politely told her to screw off before she threw her fist in your face." He comes up close and looks carefully at my face. "You must have some amazing cover-up, I can't see any bruising."

Ritsu pushes his friend away with his free hand while I stare down at the pavement, my heart pounding hard in my chest, blood rushing in my ears. It's like what I felt when I attacked that girl but for an entirely different reason. How could he get the story so wrong? And how could Rika? She was there; she knew exactly what happened, so why was she lying?

"Sora, who else knows about this?" asks Ritsu, voicing the question I can't. I fear my voice will crack and reveal just how little I know.

"The whole school, dude!" exclaims Sora incredulously. "Where the hell have you been, Rittie? I tried texting you like a million times. I figured you'd want to know the love of your life was in trouble."

Ritsu's face and neck turn almost garnet, and he glares harshly at Sora. Apparently, I wasn't supposed to know that.

Sora hardly seems perturbed. "What does it matter, dude? You're holding her hand, aren't you? And walking to school together, at least I'm assuming you're going to school. She's not in uniform."

"It's not washed," I lie clumsily. My mind is still focused on everything Sora just said. I glance at Ritsu and can see the worry in his eyes. Neither one of us knows why this is the story that's circulating campus, but I will find out before the day is over.

* * *

When we arrive at school, I'm reluctant to leave Ritsu's side. There's something uneasy about this entire situation, and I don't want to face it alone, at least not until I know I can handle it; mercifully Ritsu seems to understand and doesn't drop my hand or head to his class. Instead, we go to my locker, and he physically puts himself between the rest of the school and me while Sora bounces around, asking questions about our apparent relationship.

Ritsu's answers are curt and to the point. I'm curious as to why he's acting so short with his friend, and after a few questions are fired my way, and Ritsu answers them, I conclude that he's doing it to keep me from being uncomfortable. Now I wish Sora hadn't interrupted us earlier.

"Miss Matsuda," says a chilly voice and we all look to see Mr. Irie watching us, his gaze icy and I shrink further against my locker and Ritsu seems to stand taller. "I need you to accompany me to the principal's office, your parents are already here and are expecting you presently." His eyes then go to Ritsu, and even I'm startled by the fierce glare he's giving Mr. Irie. "Mr. Saga, is there something you wish to say?"

"I can escort Noriko, if it's all the same to you, Mr. Irie," he replies sharply, already taking my hand. He flashes me a reassuring grin before his attention returns to the teacher.

Mr. Irie regards Ritsu carefully as if sizing up a threat and I almost call him out for it, but he relents and nods at Ritsu. "Very well, so long as you're in class by the bell," he says and heads down the hall.

Ritsu, Sora and I all let out a collective breath. We start giggling when we realize what we did.

"God, that guy gives me the creeps!" says Sora, almost loud enough for Mr. Irie to hear. "I swear the rumors about him being a vampire are true."

I let out a loud laugh. "I've never heard that before! And I agree, incredibly creepy. All of the girls on the tennis team think so, too."

Ritsu squeezes my hand. "The man might be a creepy vampire, but he has a point. We should get to the principal's office and figure out what the hell's going on."

I nod, and with a wave to Sora, we start off towards the office on the floor below. Our walk is peppered with questions from every direction, some are about my alleged fight, and most are about when did Miss To-Oh and the captain of the baseball team started dating.

"I should've known you were the captain," I tease lightly, trying to deflect how nervous I am about what's about to come. "Does that mean I can't come watch you practice?"

Ritsu chuckles. "Why would it? If anything, I would think it'd encourage you. You can see me in all my floundering glory."

"I highly doubt you flounder," I counter with a squeeze of his hand. "You wouldn't be captain if you were a terrible athlete and leader."

"I guess," says Ritsu, his voice growing soft and I soon understand why. We're at the principal's office. He raises his hand and knocks on the door, and a muffled "Enter" greets us. He turns to me and quickly pecks my cheek, turning slightly pink in the process. "Good luck, Noriko."

"Thanks, Ritsu," I say, gingerly touching the spot where he kissed me and then he takes off just as the bell starts ringing. I feel a little sorry that he'll be late to class, but I'm so glad he came with me, even this far.

With a shaking hand, I grip the doorknob and turn it, holding my breath with every movement until it can't move anymore. I gently push open the door and see Matsuda, Raku, and Principal Kurusu. He's behind his desk, and my "parents" are seated in the chairs opposite his desk, they seem on edge, but I can't fault them for that, this isn't going to be one of the best meetings they've ever had.

"Ah, Noriko," says Kurusu pleasantly as I step inside, closing the door slightly, my hand now gripping the doorknob from the inside of the room. "Please have a seat."

"I'd rather stand," I say, a hint of nervousness in my voice. "I'm sorry, I just don't think I can sit still right now."

Kurusu nods thoughtfully. "Understandable. I'm glad that you're doing better, I imagine Saturday was rather eventful for you."

I nod, my throat closing up.

"Well, your parents and I have spoken, and they're not going to press charges against the girl," continues Kurusu, glancing at my "parents." "We're of the same mind that it would be better to drop the matter and allow the two of you to heal without having to rehash the evening repeatedly in a trial. Also, in light of recent events, the committee in charge of the high school tennis tournament has disqualified that team on the grounds of unsportsmanlike conduct and your team is now back in."

My eyes widen, and I feel my jaw fall open.  _'What the hell are they talking about? The girl didn't attack me; I attacked her! There should be charges, expulsion, something! Not this.'_

"Excuse me," I say, and all eyes fall on me. "I'm not sure what story you've heard, Principal Kurusu, but that girl didn't attack me. I'm the one who attacked her. I broke her nose and left her a bloody mess."

Kurusu looks confused. "Are you sure? I've seen the footage from the game, and you were attacked."

"Coach had to pull me off of her!" I say, the volume of my voice rising slightly.  _'What the hell is going on here?'_  "The entire team was talking about it, about me and what I did. Rika couldn't even look at me afterward!"

Matsuda stands up and takes a step towards me, and I flinch. "Nori, I know you've been through a lot recently, but you need to calm down. You aren't in trouble—"

"I should be!" I shout, and this time he flinches. "I should be charged with assault and be expelled! I was prepared for that, not this nonsense." I stare at him helplessly, I feel so confused and angry, and I don't know what to do or say now. "Dad, please, just stop messing around. I know I was wrong, I know I shouldn't have lost my temper, and I'm sorry. I am. So please, no more games."

Matsuda opens his mouth to speak but he looks at Raku instead who shakes her head, and he closes his mouth. My eyes widen. They did something. They know why I'm not being charged when I should be. They're covering up the truth for some reason, a reason I can't imagine, and I don't think I want to. My mind goes back to all of those times in school whenever I got in trouble; I have never been reprimanded the way I should've been, I was always given a slap on the wrist and sent back to class or transferred to another school, no questions asked. No matter what I did, I was never really punished; it was just discreetly swept under the rug. Whatever my "parents" are capable of, it seems they can influence the police and witnesses.

"You're both lying," I say coldly, and I almost don't recognize my voice. It's flat and dangerous and full of raw hate. I meet Matsuda's gaze and fear flashes in his eyes, bright and prominent. I see Raku reach for something on her belt and I realize it's a Taser.  _'Why would she need a Taser and why would she use it against me?'_

Before anyone can do anything to me, I throw open the door and break out into a full-on sprint, my sneakers slapping hard against the linoleum and my vision clouding with tears. I barely manage not to fall down the stairs in my mad dash to get the hell out of this school and as far away from my "parents" as possible. I can't even begin to wrap my head around all that they have or haven't done throughout my life. How powerful are they? How did they get that way? Why are they using it to keep me out of trouble, to begin with? With Matsuda being with the police, I would assume he'd want me to be brought to justice, even if I am his dau—No, I'm not.

"Noriko!" I hear Matsuda shout behind me and I slow down a little. I know I can outrun him but part of me doesn't want to, part of me wants him to catch up and maybe explain what the hell is going on. "Noriko, please! I'm sorry!"

"Touta!" Raku shouts and I resume my original pace. "Touta, get back here! We need to talk about this!"

"What's there to talk about?" Matsuda demands, his voice becoming distant as I keep running until I can no longer hear him or Raku. I run until I reach the front doors, and then I push them open and keep running.

My only goal right now is to get away, away from everyone and everything. None of this is making any sense. She wanted to taze me, he wants to talk to me, and they both are lying about so many things. This is insane. What kind of people adopted me? How can they have this much power in the world? What did they do to get it? I thought they were just lying about my birth parents, but no, this goes deeper, to places I can't even begin to imagine.

Suddenly my feet fly out from under me, and my head is going forward along with the rest of my body, falling briefly before colliding with something hard and unyielding. I groan slightly as I regain my bearings, my side hurts like crazy, and I wonder what kind of insane position I was in when I slammed against whatever this is. Slowly I open my eyes and breathe a small sigh of relief when I see the branches above my head; at least I'm not in a ditch or the water. I look to my left and see a tree trunk and my side throbs slightly, my indication that this is what I fell against. I look to my right and see a small branch lying in the path where I'm pretty sure I was running. I guess that's what I tripped over. It's funny; I didn't even realize I had run in here; I was too caught up in my thoughts to even pay attention.

Slowly I sit up, taking inventory of my possible side injury and conclude that I will just be bruised there for a while. It's a small relief considering it could have been broken. When I'm upright, I move my back against the tree, bringing my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms tightly around them. I can't go back; I can't. I don't know who to trust or if I can even believe the people who raised me; of the two of them, I never expected the man I considered my father to lie to me, he couldn't even lie about the tooth fairy when I point blank asked him at eight-years-old. How was he able to pull this off for years?

"What am I supposed to do now?" I wonder aloud as I look up at the tree, a few leaves and thick branches cast shadows down on me. It's strangely peaceful here as if it's in its own world and people can't find it. I certainly can't remember this place being here before, and I've lived in this city my entire life.

I see a small dot in the sky, and my eyes are instantly drawn to it. I watch with mild interest, as it slowly grows larger and larger, taking the shape of a black rectangle. Moments later, the black rectangle lands with a thud just a few inches from my feet. I move my knees down and lean forward, ignoring the ache in my side as I reach for the strange object. It looks like a notebook, its cover and back are both black, and I can see white pages inside. When I pick it up, I see the cover, and I raise an eyebrow at the English silver letters across the top.

"Death Note?"


	11. Meeting

"Mom, Dad, what's going on?" asks Koji, breaking the nearly half-hour long silence that stretched between the four of us since Matsuda announced this "family meeting." Initially, I was angry that they were dragging Koji into this, but without his presence, I might have said or done something regrettable. Being alone with these two liars would not be good for me.

"Are we in trouble? We didn't break anything playing Ping-Pong, not that we have or anything, but we haven't even gotten a chance to play it yet."

Matsuda gives him a strained smile. "I know, Koj, and no you aren't in trouble. There's just something we need to talk about, and you need to be here for it because it affects you, too."

Koji glances at me, and I refuse to make eye contact, instead preferring to glare at Raku. Her hand is resting lightly on the Taser on her belt.

"What is it?" he asks, and I watch as several emotions flicker through Matsuda's eyes. He's nervous. Good.

"I'm adopted," I reply, not trusting those two to not weasel out of telling him the truth. "My parents are different people. These two are yours."

From the corner of my eye, I see Koji's eyes widen to the size of saucers, and he looks back at his parents. "Is that true?" he asks, his tone slightly accusatory and I'm glad that he at least feels somewhat betrayed.

"Yes, it's true," admits Matsuda slowly. "Nori's mom and dad died when she was still a baby and—"

"My father was  _murdered_ , and my mother  _committed suicide,_ " I sneer and watch with satisfaction as they both pale. "Don't even try to feed him the same bullshit I'm sure you were going to give me if you ever told me."

"We were going to tell you," argues Matsuda, he seems agitated, and I hardly care. "We were going to tell you once you entered university. We didn't like keeping this from you—"

"Enough bullshit, Touta," says Raku firmly and he backs down, a stunned look on his face. "Noriko, we were going to tell you. I wanted you to know sooner rather than later, but my husband was convinced that it would hinder any familial bond we might develop, so he insisted on waiting until you were older." She adjusts her position, so her legs are uncrossed, and she leans forward, forearms on her thighs. "Now, how did you find out?"

"I heard you say it while you were arguing," I reply with a shrug. If they're done with the bullshit, then I have no reason to throw it back in their faces. "I heard everything."

"I see," says Raku stiffly. She probably realizes that it's her fault I know and I forcefully bite my cheek to keep from smirking. "And why didn't you come to us and ask about it?"

"Because learning your entire life has been a lie isn't something that endears you to the people who lied," I snap back, and I see Matsuda flinch. "Is that it? Are we done here?"

Raku glares at me. "Not even close."

I lean back against the couch cushion and catch Koji's worried expression. I want to smile at him and tell him there's nothing to worry about, but I can't bring myself to give him false hope, not when everything is crashing down around us.

"Koji, do you have anything you'd like to say?" asks Matsuda tentatively.

Koji nods, and he moves closer to me before slipping his arms around my middle, slipping past my crossed arms and drawn up knees. "Nori, even if we don't have the same parents, you're still my sister," he says, squeezing me tightly. "I'll always see you as my sister, and I'm sorry about your parents. They really missed out."

My arms unwind from each other and find their way around him, holding him close. I feel like I'm going to cry or scream or something, but nothing happens, so I just squeeze Koji tighter. I might be angry with Matsuda and Raku, but that won't stop me from loving Koji or seeing him as anything other than my baby brother. I thought it might; I thought I would look at him and just see another lie.

"I love you," I whisper into his hair, and his arms tighten. "You'll always be my brother, Koj. Always."

"Good," he says with a relieved sigh. "I thought you might be happy not be related to me, that it would mean you wouldn't want to be around me anymore."

"Never," I say fiercely. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says, pulling away slightly. I look at him, and he's smiling brightly up at me, and I can barely return it. "I don't think I'd like being an only child anyway; I wouldn't have anyone to beat at Ping-Pong."

"You can't beat me now," I tease, glad for the distraction. "Maybe in a few years."

Koji rolls his eyes. "What? Too chicken to take me on now?"

"No, I just don't want to hurt your pride," I say, ruffling his hair. "Get better, and then in a few years, we'll have a real match to determine which of us is the true champion. I promise."

"Fine, but only because you're my sister," he says sternly. "No backing out of our championship game, even if I'm better than you. Deal?"

"Deal," I say with a slight smile.

"Koji, why don't you go upstairs and work on your homework?" suggests Matsuda kindly. Koji doesn't jump at the chance right away. Instead, he leans his head on my shoulder. "I promise, nothing's going to happen to your sister. We just need to talk to her, that's all."

"Why can't I be here, too?" he asks, and I feel my heart flutter. He doesn't want me to face this alone. My little brother is trying to protect me.

Matsuda rubs the back of his neck. "It's about some trouble Noriko's had at school and your mother, and I don't think you need to hear about it. I know this is a lot to take in right now, but I promise you that nothing bad will happen if you leave. Noriko will still be here."

Koji looks at me, and I nod, I have no immediate plans for leaving—unless something terrible happens—so technically Matsuda isn't lying. Reluctantly, Koji pulls away from me and stands up before heading for the stairs. "Okay, but no fighting," he warns sternly. "We're a family and family's don't fight. We bicker with love."

Matsuda smiles a little at his son. "You're absolutely right. Now get on with your homework, young man, or no chocolate chip cookies later."

With a smile, my brother is sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time in his haste. Moments later, we hear his door close and then silence.

"Did you go through my room?" asks Raku the second she knows Koji can't hear her.

I calmly meet her fiery gaze. "And if I did?"

Her glare hardens. My words are as good as a full admission, and I did it deliberately. Now she can't get out of telling me the truth, not when I've been honest, even in a roundabout way. "Then we can drop this," she says to my surprise. "You know who your parents were, you know about the money, you know everything. There isn't anything left for us to discuss on that point."

"And what about another point?" I counter, watching as her fingers brush her Taser yet again. "Like how you almost tased me at school."

Raku's eyes widen for a moment, and then her expression becomes neutral once again. "I thought you were going to lash out. You seemed very angry, and I wasn't about to let you hurt someone else."

"So you do know what happened!" I shout, leaping to my feet and I point my finger at her. "You know that I'm at fault, don't you!"

"Well done, Raku," says Matsuda flatly, glaring slightly at his wife before looking at me. "Yes, we know. Your coach called us and told us, and Mrs. Saga called us as well and told us some very interesting things as well."

I feel the color drain from my face, and the fight leaves my body. "W-What did she say?"

"That her son pulled you down from a bridge," says Matsuda, now standing up. I suddenly feel incredibly small under his disapproving gaze. "What the hell were you thinking, Noriko? Do you know how devastated we would've been if you took your life?"

"I imagine not much," I snap back. "You don't want me; you only did this because someone made you. I heard you say that you agreed to take me, not that you wanted to take me or that you were trying to take me." I feel tears stinging in my eyes. "Why the hell do you even care that I tried to kill myself? It would've been the end of your problems! I would've been gone, and your lives could've become normal. You wouldn't have to deal with me anymore!"

"That isn't the point!" shouts Matsuda and my heart drops. He didn't disagree, and he didn't counter any of my points. He must really hate having me around, and I must be a terrible burden. "You can't just make those decisions for yourself; there's more at stake than you realize."

I'm done talking about this. They have no right to dictate to me what I can and cannot do with the life they never gave me; the only people who can are dead.

"How were you able to make everyone forget the truth?" I ask through grit teeth. I need to know; I need to understand how much power they have and how likely it would be for me to disappear without them ever finding me. "My coach, my teammates, my friend, that girl I attacked, how?"

Matsuda falters, his eyes go to Raku, and she seems perfectly content with him handling the situation. I almost feel sorry for him.

"We can't really tell you that," he says lamely, looking down at the floor. I had a feeling they couldn't tell me, but I still wanted to see for myself whether or not they would give in and say something. "Just know that everything we do is in your best interest."

I roll my eyes. "My best interest? You're letting me get away with assault! You're rigging the system and blaming an innocent party. You're punishing people who did nothing wrong. My team should be eliminated, I should be charged and expelled, and I should lose everything because what I did was terrible! I hurt someone, I attacked a girl, and now I'm being rewarded for it? How screwed up is that? You're a police officer, and she's a former CIA agent. You both know this is wrong, so why don't you do something about it and make sure I get exactly what's coming to me?"

"Do you want to go to jail?" asks Matsuda curiously and I shake my head.

"No one wants to, but I know that I probably should," I reply firmly. "What I did was wrong and against the law. That girl shouldn't have to live with this injustice; she shouldn't live the rest of her life thinking that if something bad happens again, the criminal won't be punished. Even Kira would see it my way."

Matsuda's expression darkens at the mention of the serial killer, at the mention of my father. It was a cold and dirty move, but he needs to understand that what he's doing is wrong. That even a fellow criminal would think of me as nothing more. I'm not special, I'm not anything worth fussing over, so I shouldn't get out of this situation unscathed.

"Go to your room," says Matsuda ominously. "We'll discuss this again when you're feeling reasonable."

I can hardly believe what he's saying.  _I'm_  unreasonable? I'm asking for justice for the girl I hurt, and he thinks I'm unreasonable? "No," I say firmly, lifting my chin in defiance. "I think I'll stay right here and wait for you two to explain yourselves."

Matsuda doesn't seem to be in the mood for humoring me, and he crosses over and grabs my upper arm. He starts dragging me away towards the stairs, and I struggle against his grip.

"Let me go!" I shout, and his grip seems to tighten.

He says nothing as we go up the stairs and head for my bedroom. I continue to struggle, trying desperately to escape but his grasp is unrelenting, and I can feel bruises starting to form where his fingers are digging into my skin. I've never seen him like this before, not even when I was younger did he spank me or raise his voice to me. He was always calm whenever he dealt with me, stern but gentle; this is almost like an entirely different person.

Matsuda opens my door and roughly shoves me inside, I barely have my bearings when he slams the door shut, and I hear it lock on the other side.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaim, pounding on the door. "Let me out!"

"You can come out when you're feeling reasonable," he repeats, and I hear him walk away. My pounding only increases.

"I am reasonable!" I argue, giving the door a hard whack. "You're the one who's keeping secrets! You're the one who's obstructing justice! You're the one who's a failure as a police officer! How is that reasonable?"

I'm not sure if he heard me, but I don't care, it's nice to say something about this mess of a situation finally. Even if all I'm doing is throwing accusations at him. I hit the door one last time before I sink to my knees with tears spilling down my face as I curl into a fetal position against the door. I don't even really know why I'm crying; I just know it feels better than screaming right now.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I say into my knees. Now I really wish I had jumped off of that bridge.

"Nothing," says a raspy voice and I jump, my head springing up to see who said that.

My eyes fall on a darkened corner of my room, and I let out a surprised noise as I brace myself against the door. It's not a who but a what. The dark creature is looking at me; its red eyes glow in the darkness.

"Who are you?" I ask nervously. "What are you?"

"I'm a  _shinigami_ ," it replies with a slight chuckle. "My name is Kira."

My heart stutters to a stop in my chest. This thing, this  _shinigami_ , is my father?!

"You're Light Yagami?" I ask as I stand up, my back still pressed against the wall. "But I thought you were dead."

"I was," he says, his red eyes still on me. "When I died, I was given a chance to become a  _shinigami_ , a god of death. Obviously, I accepted."

This doesn't seem real. "Why are you here?"

"Because you picked up my Death Note," Kira replies, his eyes darting to my desk; I put the notebook in a drawer after I got home earlier in the day.

That so-called "family meeting" only happened after Koji returned from school until then, I was in my bedroom waiting for the inevitable storm. I wanted to inspect it further, but I thought Matsuda and Raku might burst in at any moment, so I just kept it hidden. Honestly, I would be surprised if they didn't know about it, I didn't exactly have a great place to hide it when they found me and had to stuff it into the waistband of my jeans. I heard it crinkle with every step I took and I'm sure they did too.

"So a Death Note belongs to a  _shinigami_ ," I say slowly, testing my words. "I'm guessing you're here to take it back?"

To my surprise, Kira shakes his head. The only way I know is the red beads staring at me move slightly back and forth. "No, that was a spare one I found. I still have mine." His voice sounds human and inhuman at the same time, and it sends a chill up my spine. "That one I wanted you to have."

I raise an eyebrow. "You wanted me to have that?" My eyes widen in realization. "Does that mean . . . Does that mean you know who I am?"

Kira nods. "Yes, I know exactly who you are, Noriko Yagami. That's why I'm here."

His words sink in, and I feel my entire body buzzing with excitement. My father is here; he's really here! Not only that, he knows who I am, and he gave me something important, something that seems to have allowed a connection between us; I never thought I'd ever see him, and to have him here, even as a  _shinigami_ , is beyond my wildest dreams.

Silently, I walk over to my desk and sit down before I pull the notebook out of the drawer. It seems like a simple notebook, nothing especially significant and probably not something that can summon a god of death. "Does it kill people?" I ask venturing a guess based on the cover, and again he nods. "How?"

"Haven't you read the rules yet?" he asks impatiently and I slowly open the cover. Sure enough, there are several rules written on the back of the front cover, all in English and all in the same strange handwriting as the words on the front.

I give him a pointed look. "Pardon me for not reading it right away, Matsuda showed up after I found it and my main focus was hiding it before he could see."

"I suppose that is more important," concedes Kira. "Why didn't you read it later then?"

"I couldn't trust them to not come into my room unannounced," I reply as I read the rules. The first one states that anyone whose name is written in the book will die. If the cause of death isn't specified, then the person will die of a heart attack in 40 seconds. Otherwise, cause and details of the death should be written down in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds. In hindsight, without the presence of a  _shinigami_  or the fact it fell from the sky, I would've suspected this to be an elaborate prank. "Interesting."

Kira rolls his eyes. "That's all you have to say about it?"

"Yes," I reply as I put it down. "This isn't everything about it. If it were, then it would say that the previous owner, a  _shinigami_ , would show up and explain how I'm able to see you in the first place. Care to enlighten me?" I hear him shift around and then think of something else. "First come into the light, I'm not having this conversation with a shadow."

I observe Kira, curious to see what he'll do, and to my surprise, he does exactly as I asked. Now that he's in proper lighting, I finally see what he looks like: he's a tall, almost skeletal being with a long pointed skull for a head, red beads of light for eyes, and brown hair that juts back into a massive point. He appears to be wearing a tattered dark brown suit and a red piece of fabric around his forehead almost like a bandana. There is something long on his back, it looks like a handle made of bone, and he has a pair of goggles resting on where his eyebrows would have been. A truly terrifying creature.

"Do I scare you?" he asks, sounding smug.

I shake my head and my awed expression. "Not really. You surprised me earlier, but I'm not scared of you. Why? Should I be?"

"Not necessarily," replies Kira as his gaze goes to the notebook on my desk. "So what would you like to know?"

' _More than you'll ever tell me,'_  I think callously. There's so much I want to know and not about the Death Note. I want to know about him, about how the hell he's still here, about my mother and the people he left me with, about my grandparents and aunt. I want to know so much that my mind is swirling with questions. I want to talk to him and learn and discover; I could care less about the Death Note; the only thing I care about is getting to know my father.

"How can I see you?" I finally ask. It's close enough.

"A bond of ownership is formed between  _shinigami_  and notebook," he explains as if teaching a lesson. "Even if we temporarily lose ownership by giving the book away, the bond is still present; a human can only retain ownership of the notebook conditionally whereas the only condition of termination for a  _shinigami_  is death and that rarely happens. The bond allows for a  _shinigami_  to attach itself to the new owner and the two share a connection through the notebook. You can see me, and I can interact with you. Without it, we'd be unable to communicate."

I pick up the notebook. "So because I own this, and have a bond of ownership, I can see and hear you. Can anyone else?"

Something akin to a smirk pulls at Kira's jaw. "Yes. Now that the notebook and I are in the human world and attached to a human, any human or creature that touches it can see and hear me. That's what happens when a Death Note enters the human realm."

"I see," I say as I put it back down. "So if I want to keep your existence a secret, no one else can touch it, correct?" He nods. "Simple enough."

"I'm impressed that you've grasped the rules so quickly," says Kira encouragingly. "I've seen several humans struggle with just the most basic of concepts regarding the Death Note."

I shrug. "It's not that difficult." I then look at him properly. "Why did you really give this to me?" I highly doubt that he traveled all this way from wherever he's been just to deliver me a notebook that can kill people; he must have a plan, and I must be part of it somehow.

"I've been watching you from the  _Shinigami_  Realm," explains Kira slowly, his bright red eyes locked on mine. "I've seen how you've suffered, how you're suffering." He looks at the door. "I heard everything that happened earlier, and I saw how Matsuda was treating you."

I discreetly rub the spot on my arm where Matsuda grabbed me earlier. "He isn't like that all the time."

"He shouldn't have ever been like that," says Kira sternly, looking down at me. "I heard what you said, and you're right, even I would've thought you were guilty and deserved to be punished. If Matsuda can't see that or chooses not to, then he has no right calling himself a police officer."

"Will you help me?" I ask a little more eagerly than I anticipated. Right now, the only thing I want is to learn more about the people who adopted me and who made them agree to adopt me in the first place. "I want to figure out how they were able to manipulate the system as they did."

"Of course I'll help you," says Kira, his jaw moving to a smile. He then picks up the Death Note. "With this, you'll be able to do anything, and I'll be there every step of the way. We'll change the world, Noriko. Together."

I look at the Death Note and then at my father, a  _shinigami_  and known serial killer. This isn't how I expected a reunion like this to go, even if until now it was never supposed to happen. I thought, should I get the chance, that we'd discuss his life and mine and bond over finally finding each other. Not casually debating a weapon capable of killing anyone I choose. I have a feeling Kira, or rather Light, will never want to talk about my life, he'll just want to talk about how he can help me and how the Death Note will be my salvation. He's offering to help me, but at the price of taking the same poison, he did. At this point I'm ready to pay just about any price for answers, to learn about my parents and uncover the secrets hiding in the shadows. I want to know, and I know Light can help me, but I won't succumb to the temptation of using the Death Note, that's one price I refuse to pay.

I give him the best smile I can manage and hope he doesn't look at it too hard.

"Together."


	12. Sever

"You can't quit!" shouts Coach, her expression irate and her eyes murderous. "We need you, Matsuda! We'll never win without you."

I smirk. "I can, and I did, and there's nothing you can say that will make me change my mind."

"I won't write you a letter of recommendation for To-Oh," she sneers, and I shrug.

"My grades and test scores will tell them everything they need to know," I say flippantly. "Besides, any teacher I ask would gladly write me a letter. Anything else?"

"Why are you quitting?" she demands, smacking her fist against her desk as if that's supposed to scare me. "Is it because of what that girl did? Because she's been taken care of, Matsuda, she won't bother you again."

I glare at her, and she noticeably shrinks back in her chair. "I know, and I'm disgusted by it and you." I turn on my heel and head for the door. "Oh and don't bother calling my parents to try and get them to force me back on the team, they already know what I'm doing and support my decision." It's a lie, but she doesn't need to know that. I look at her over my shoulder and just as I thought, her hand is on her phone. "I wouldn't do it, Coach. Who knows what it might cost you?"

Her hand leaves the phone, and I leave her office.

Outside the team is huddled around the door, their eyes wide with surprise and I meet their startled gazes calmly. They probably thought they would be able to escape and pretend like they weren't eavesdropping but they apparently weren't fast enough. My eyes find Rika, and she looks away from me, her face full of shame and I'm glad that she at least feels guilty for being part of this massive lie and cover-up. The rest are staring at me like a zoo animal, waiting to see what I'll do next, maybe hoping they'll catch a glimpse of the monster I was the last time they saw me. They'd probably enjoy that, to say they'd seen me in a way no one else has.

I'm not about to give them the privilege.

"Good luck this weekend," I say before heading down the hall towards my locker. I can feel their eyes on me, but I don't turn around or flinch.

"Well, that was certainly interesting," says Kira as he floats beside me, phasing in and out of solid objects with ease. I wonder if he's doing it deliberately or because he doesn't care. "I didn't think you'd quit the team."

"I can't be around them," I say quietly, barely moving my lips as I speak. There are several people in the hall right now, and it is fairly loud, but I can't risk someone overhearing my conversations with Light. They probably already think there's something wrong with me, I don't need to give them confirmation. "They're all part of the conspiracy, and I can't trust any of them."

"It's probably wise to stay away from anyone associated with that incident," agrees Kira as I stop at my locker and he sits on top of it, looking down at me. It's still unnerving to speak to, essentially, a walking, talking skeleton but I'm getting used to it. "What's next?"

"Talking to my homeroom teacher about graduating early," I mumble as I pull out the forms I filled out the previous night. Graduating early and possibly taking my entrance exams early means I can get into To-Oh sooner and with that, gain access to my inheritance; I need that money to fund my investigation into my adoptive family, friends, school, and whomever else I can think of.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asks as I close my locker door. "Your teacher will call Matsuda about this."

"I'm sure," I say coldly as I start walking towards the teachers' office. I don't care if they call Matsuda, he can only do so much before he tips his hand that he and Raku are controlling aspects of my life. They can brush off the tennis tournament incident as something the committee decided but forcing me to stay on the tennis team and forcing me to stay in school when I'm perfectly capable of graduating early, without legitimate reasons as to why I should stay, would look suspicious.

When I arrive, I knock on the door, and I hear someone say, "Enter." I go inside and repress a shudder when I see Mr. Irie already looking at me. Just as always, his gaze makes my skin crawl.

"What can I do for you today, Miss Matsuda?" asks Mr. Irie as he puts down a paper and gives me his full attention, something I wish he would divert away from me.

I take a deep breath and go over to his desk, handing him the form. He takes it and skims it for a few moments.

"You're petitioning to graduate early," he says, and I nod. "Any particular reason?"

"I thought it might be best for the school's reputation if I left early," I reply smoothly. "After the scandal at the tennis tournament, I feel like it's brought a great deal of negative publicity to the school and after all this school's meant to me, I would hate to bring the institution down further with my continued presence."

Mr. Irie regards me carefully. "That's a very noble reason, Miss Matsuda. You're correct, the school has received a great deal of attention from the incident last week, and the vast majority has been negative." He puts down my form on his desk. "I can't make a decision now and by myself, but I will consider this request. I will speak to the principal about it, and you should know our decision by tomorrow afternoon. Is this satisfactory?"

"Yes, sir," I say, giving him a slight bow. "Thank you for your time."

"It's always a pleasure to assist one of my favorite students," says Mr. Irie with a cold smile and I quickly head out of the room, eager to be as far away from him as possible, at least until class begins in a few minutes.

"What a creep," says Kira once we're no longer in the room. "How was that man hired to be a teacher? He was looking at you like he could see you naked."

I shiver harshly at the thought. "Oh god. I knew there was something wrong with him, but I never would've pegged him for a pervert."

Kira chuckles. "Well, you were doing everything you could to not make lingering eye contact. Not that I blame you, it isn't always easy to meet the eyes of a predator."

I return to my locker to grab my bag before heading to my classroom.  _'And yet I can easily make eye contact with you,'_

* * *

After school, I find Parisa standing by my locker, her bag over her shoulder and glasses slightly askew. She gives me a slight smile when she sees me, and I return it. I open my locker and begin sorting through what materials I needed for the evening and which I could leave until tomorrow.

"I got your message," she says quietly as if we're talking about something private. In a sense we are, but she doesn't need to know the truth of that. "What do you need?"

"I need you to hold on to something for me," I say as I pull out a large yellow shipping envelope. It's been sealed with several layers of clear tape, and she looks at it curiously. "I promise, this isn't anything illegal." At least not what she's thinking. "I just can't have it at the house right now. I need you to hide it somewhere at your place until it's safe for me to have it again."

"What is it?" she asks as she takes the envelope and puts it in her bag. When she looks back up at me, I breathe a massive sigh of relief that she isn't screaming or demanding to know what the thing is behind me. It seems that my precautions are sufficient.

I covertly glance around while at the same time making it visible to her what I'm doing before I lean my face down towards her. "Can you keep a secret?"

Parisa nods and her eyes are sparkling with anticipation.

"It's something that used to belong to my father," I reply softly, "my biological father."

Her eyes widen, and she looks ready to ask me several questions, but I silently tell her to not.

"The Matsudas aren't my biological family," I say sternly. "They adopted me when I was a baby. My birth parents are both dead, my mother committed suicide, and my father was murdered." Parisa's jaw falls in shock, and I stifle a giggle. She's a captive audience and tends to give the appropriate expressions when the situation presents itself. "I know, pretty crazy. Anyway, I found this, and I don't want my adoptive parents to know that I have it, so I need you to keep it safe for me until I can put it someplace else. Can you do that for me?"

Parisa nods her head, her light pink hair flying out from the enthusiasm of her response. "Of course! Oh Noriko, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

I shrug as I close my locker and put my bag on my shoulder. "It's alright; it's not like I knew them."

"Do you know who they are?" she asks curiously and I hesitate for a moment before shaking my head.

"Yes, but not much more than a first name," I reply with a slight grimace. "I only just found out about being adopted when I found what's inside the envelope I gave you. I'm going to investigate more now that I have it."

"Won't you need it for your investigation?" she asks.

"No, I've already copied all of the information down," I say confidently. It's not a lie; I did write down all of the rules of the Death Note on a separate piece of paper now taped down to the inside of my shoe. "That part's easier to hide than it, so that's why I need you to hide it for me. Don't worry, it shouldn't be for very long, and I'll compensate you for any trouble."

Parisa shakes her head. "This shouldn't be any trouble, Nori. I'm glad I can help out. Just promise you'll tell me about your biological parents when you find out who they are."

"I promise," I say with feigned enthusiasm. "So, have you seen much of Sango and Haru lately?"

Parisa shakes her head. "No, but I haven't been trying, and I'm quite certain they're avoiding me. Apparently, if the rumor mill is to be believed, they're now officially a couple and got together last Saturday at Spaceland."

I nod, having heard as much myself during lunch that day. Apparently, it's all everyone talks about, because my dramatic exit from the school on Monday hasn't been brought up once.

"And I heard something interesting about you, too," continues Parisa and I momentarily freeze. "Are you dating Ritsu Saga, the captain of the baseball team?"

I let out a nervous laugh. "I'm surprised you even know that much about him, I didn't peg you as a baseball fan."

"I'm not especially, but that's the title attached to his name," explains Parisa with a shrug. "Just like you're Miss To-Oh. Everyone's incredibly surprised that you're dating him, and I didn't even know you knew him."

"It's a recent development," I say, smiling slightly. "We met each other last week, but we aren't dating."

Parisa nods her understanding. "I see, well, that makes more sense. I was starting to think you'd turned into Sango and started dating someone you didn't know just because he was good-looking and was the captain of our school's best athletic team."

"No, it's nothing like that," I say dismissively. "Ritsu and I hardly know each other; we're just acquaintances." Acquaintances that almost kissed and held hands for about an hour, but still acquaintances I suppose.

"Well, you should probably work on setting the record straight," suggests Parisa as we exit the school and come to stand at the bottom of the stairs. We live in opposite directions, and she needs to take the train home whereas I can walk back in a reasonable time. "There are some rumors you don't want to be associated with your name."

I raise an eyebrow and scrutinize her blank expression, looking for the hidden meaning in her words but finding nothing. "Alright, I'll see what I can do," I agree although I'm still not sure what I just agreed to in the first place. I begin walking towards my house. "I'll see you tomorrow, Pari."

"Are you going to be here or just run out of the school when homeroom starts?" she asks, her voice quiet but her words carry a heavy weight to them, and my heart stutters in my chest.

_'People do know about Monday, they're just choosing to ignore it, or were told to,'_  I realize and slowly turn back to her, she's staring at me, her dark brown eyes squarely on me before she turns and starts walking away. I release the breath I was holding and start walking towards my residence, replaying her words in my mind. This is my first day back since Monday, as Matsuda thought it would be best if I stayed home after running out of there at top speed and then yesterday, I spent the day locked in my room with nothing but studying and homework. I honestly didn't think he would follow through on his threat that I couldn't go out until I'd agree to be reasonable but that's what he did; then Raku told him that he needed to let me out so I could attend school and he agreed. I haven't spoken to either of them since.

Koji was terrific company during my brief confinement. He did his homework outside of my door and asked me questions about what I was doing and for help on some of his work. Once he was finished, he then suggested we play chess through the door. I had my set in my room, and he had his dad's old one, so that's exactly what we did; we would loudly call out our moves and each move the pieces on the board to match what the other was saying. I've never played like that before, but it was somewhat entertaining.

"Are you sure it was a good idea to give her the notebook?" asks Kira now that I'm out of earshot of most people. "Can you trust her?"

"I can't trust anyone," I reply, glancing at him as he floats beside me with his leathery brown wings. They look like bat wings. "That's why I didn't tell her what it was just why I needed to hide it; something that personal, she won't think twice about not keeping it for me, nor will she look at it. Parisa isn't the most socially adept, but she respects boundaries and knows enough social etiquette to not invade someone's privacy."

Kira nods, and I can't tell whether or not he approves of my decision. "It'll be difficult to use now since you've taped and bagged it up."

I shrug. "Using it isn't a priority right now. My focus is on my adoptive parents and how they were able to cover up my crime."

"Then we should probably look into whether or not they're working with L, or at least the man claiming to be the detective," supplies Kira, and I almost trip when he speaks. "What?"

"How do you know about L?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Kira's bony jaw quirks into what might be a smirk. "Because I used to work with him during the Kira Case and I acted as L after the original died."

' _I was right!'_  I think happily, recalling my earlier theory about there being multiple Ls throughout the last twenty, twenty-five years. Kira's last words ring loudly in my ears and dampen my initial excitement. "How did he die?" I ask with a frown. Something tells me that if Kira the Savior was working with L, he probably had a hand in his death, primarily since they were working on the Kira Case.

"A  _shinigami_  killed him," he says, and I can tell that he's doing exactly as I do, telling something that is more or less the truth and not an outright lie. I wonder if a skill like that is hereditary or if it has something to do with our intelligence and thought process. "Then I took over."

"And then you died," I say flatly, filling in the short timeline. "Do you have any idea who L is now?"

I'm hardly surprised when Kira nods. He already admitted to having watched me while he was in the  _Shinigami_  Realm, so it isn't unbelievable that he kept an eye on his successor. "Yes, as a matter of fact, he was L's original heir. His name is Near."

I give him a side-eye glance. "What do you mean by original heir?"

"I mean that Near was supposed to be L when he died, or rather he and another boy were supposed to be chosen by L, but he never did," replies Kira. "So, when he died, I became L based on his words that I was the only one worthy of succeeding him. It was enough of an endorsement for the rest of the Task Force to follow my orders."

"If L said that, why did his heir still take over?" I ask, observing his reaction. So far I have been unable to read him beyond knowing what a few facial quirks mean on a human face, and it's a little unnerving how he can just hide his expressions, and it has nothing to do with having an uncovered skull for a head. His voice or even the way his eyes move should give something away and yet, neither do, they remain completely still and unmoved.

"I suppose it's because L never got the chance to tell them that he wanted me to succeed him," replies Kira, his tone thoughtful. "I don't know why Near and Mello decided to fight for the position when it was already mine, but they did."

"It's possible they saw you as a usurper rather than a legitimate heir," I offer, and he scoffs. "You can't tell me that L meant for you to succeed him, no matter how smart and talented he thought you were when he had two perfectly good heirs waiting in the wing. He probably made that comment to see how you'd react and whether or not it would reveal something sinister about your intentions." A thought crosses my mind. "Did L suspect you of being Kira?"

Kira chuckles low in his throat. "I'm impressed. You are his child. Yes, L suspected Light early on of being Kira and made it his goal to bring him to justice. It didn't quite go as planned. Even devoid of his memories, my influence on Light was still strong enough for him to continue down the path I laid out months in advance."

I look at him curiously. "What do you mean you were devoid of memories? Did you have amnesia?"

"Something to that effect," he replies with a shrug. "You see, when a human owns a Death Note, they can maintain or give over ownership whenever they please. If the owner were to choose to give up ownership, then the  _shinigami_  attached to them would erase their memories of the Death Note. It would subsequently create gaps in the human's memory, like amnesia."

My eyes widen, and panic floods my system. "I just gave it to Parisa! Why can I still see you and remember you?"

"Because you're just lending it to her," says Kira, somewhat amused. "You can give a Death Note to another human temporarily and still maintain ownership, even if that person starts using the notebook. Another difference between an owner and a temporary holder is they can't make the  _Shinigami_  Eye Deal."

"What's that?" I ask as I check my phone for messages. There's one from Matsuda, saying that we're going to dinner at Ritsu's family's restaurant and to meet them there. I turn left at the next road.

"It's a deal the owner of the notebook and the notebook's  _shinigami_  can make," says Kira with a slightly menacing smile. "In exchange for half of your lifespan, you can see the name and lifespan of anyone you see. It would make the Death Note easier to use, and for all intents and purposes, you'd be a walking goddess."

I refrain from smirking and adjust my bag strap, so it lies more comfortably across my shoulder. He talks about godhood as if it's someone every mortal wishes to achieve as if it's the be all end all of existence. In every sense of the word, he is a god, and yet he's bound by rules and conditions to his presence just the same as I am. The only differences between us are our purpose and lifespan.

* * *

When I arrive at the restaurant, I'm more than a little surprised to see Koji playing outside with Ritsu and Sora. I honestly didn't expect to see Sora again, considering he isn't Mei's favorite guest, but given that he's Ritsu's best friend I suppose that his presence is to be inevitable. They're tossing a baseball back and forth, keeping it within Koji's reach while at the same time showing off various pitches and dive catches. I smile at the scene, somewhat content with watching the three of them play together, and it almost makes me forget about school and my unavoidable discussion with Matsuda and Raku later on this week regarding my recent decisions.

"Nori!" shouts Koji when he finally sees me and he abandons the game with Sora and Ritsu in favor of hugging me. I can't say that I mind. He throws his arms around my middle and squeezes me tightly, and I do the same to him, hugging him as tightly as I can before we let go. "It's so good to see you, Nori! How was school?"

"Bearable," I reply as we walk over to Ritsu and Sora.

"Hey Nori," says Sora brightly, tossing the baseball in the air and catching it. "Nice to see you again."

"Likewise," I say pleasantly. "I wasn't expecting to see you here, Sora, according to Ritsu, you're terrified of being here."

Sora misses the ball, and it lands on his foot. Ritsu and Koji start to laugh as he flails around, trying to pick it back up and rub his injured foot at the same time.

"Who told you that?" asks Sora, once he's recovered his voice and his ball.

"He did," I reply with a smile and he frowns.

"I'm not terrified, I just happen to know that Mrs. Saga is much prettier when she's happy with you," explains Sora, glaring slightly at Ritsu. "So to help her maintain her youthful glow, I only come by for a few hours and then stay the hell away."

I laugh, and Sora blushes. "How considerate of you, Sora."

"That's Sora, always the considerate one," teases Ritsu as he comes to stand beside me.

I smile up at him, and he smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, it seems almost strained.

"Kids!" calls Mei from inside the restaurant. "It's time for dinner! Come inside and don't you dare try to play running catch, Sora, Ritsu. We can't have Koji catching any of your bad habits."

Sora snickers as we go inside. "I'm the perfect gentleman, Mrs. Saga; you know that."

I force myself to keep walking when I see Matsuda and Raku sitting at the counter with Mei, the three of them drinking tea from Mei's robin's egg blue cups. Raku pointedly ignores me when I come in, not even making eye contact with me as I head for the table Ritsu's directing me towards. Matsuda smiles at me, and I make myself smile back, hoping it's passable. It seems to be enough because he easily drops eye contact with me as I sit down between Koji and Ritsu at the table.

Mei gives Sora the perfect look of skepticism and annoyance as she and my "parents" head over to the table. I've seen that look many times from Raku, most of the time it's directed at Matsuda, but on occasion, she's given it to Koji and me.

"Noriko, lovely to see you again, dear," says Mei kindly and she smiles at my "parents" as they sit down. "You're so lucky, Mrs. Matsuda, Noriko is a perfect houseguest. She even does laundry!"

Raku gives her a falsely cheerful smile as she busies herself with her napkin and chopsticks.

"That's great to hear," says Matsuda with an otherwise nervous chuckle, putting an arm around Raku's shoulders. "We've taught her from a young age to be considerate and mindful of other people. It's good to know the lessons stuck."

"We enjoyed having her over," says Mei just as Yoshito comes in with a tray full of bowls steaming with beef stew. She then stands and assists him in serving their guests. I move to help but one look from Mei has me back in my chair.

"Ritsu," says Mei, looking at her son who is looking at his empty plate. "Why don't you get your friends a drink? There's fresh tea in the back and some cups."

"Yes, ma'am," says Ritsu as he stands up, his gaze cast on the floor as he walks to the kitchen and I wonder what's bothering him. I didn't get a chance to speak to him at school today, but that isn't anything new, we have different lunches and are in two different classes. My mind wanders back to what Parisa said about the rumors at school, and I wonder if that's what's bothering him.

"We can't thank you enough for looking after her," continues Matsuda, bringing me back to the conversation. "If it weren't for you and your generosity, Noriko might not have recovered as well as she did."

Sora nods his agreement. "I don't know what you did, Mei, but you can't even see the bruises on Noriko's face."

"I don't think that's what her father meant," says Mei, giving a sympathetic glance to Matsuda.

Koji cocks his eyebrow and stares at me curiously. "What bruises? Nori, what's Sora talking about?"

"You mean, you don't know?" asks Sora incredulously as he reaches into his pocket, probably for his phone.

"Know what?" asks Koji, clearly getting annoyed at being left out of the loop.

"Some girl beat the cra—snot out of Noriko at the tennis tournament," says Sora, correcting himself mid-sentence when Mei leveled a stern look his way. He brings up his phone. "Here, I can show you the video if you want. Your sister was great, took it like a champ." He flashes me a smile, and all I want to do is crawl under the table and hide.

Koji stares at me with wide eyes. "Really, Nori? Some girl beat you up?"

I open my mouth to answer, but Mei cuts me off, "Oh yes, she was covered in blood and had some nasty bruises on her face. Ritsu found her and brought her here, and I looked after her, using a home remedy to help with the swelling and bruises. I'm glad to see that it's working so well." She flashes me a cheery smile and continues to serve. She puts a bowl in front of me and pats my shoulder before continuing to Koji and then Sora.

I look down at the bowl and nearly push it away. I don't think I can stomach anything of substance at the moment. Mei lied. She blatantly, boldly, completely lied. She knew what happened, I told her exactly what happened and didn't change any details. How could she get the story so wrong? Why? What happened between Monday and today that would make her change the story to match what everyone else is saying happened?

"It seems Matsuda and L got to them," says Kira from behind me and I barely manage not to jump from fright. I'd nearly forgotten about him. "I bet they even told their son to lie about what transpired. You were right, Noriko, you can't trust anyone."

' _You're wrong, Ritsu wouldn't do that,'_  I think defiantly as I reach for my chopsticks.  _'He can't be easily swayed. He's not the type.'_

Just then, Ritsu enters the room looking utterly dejected. He's carrying a small tray with four cups of tea on it and passes them out to Koji, Sora, himself and me before he sits back down beside me. He doesn't even look at me.

"Ritsu, did you know about Nori getting beat up?" asks Koji as he picks up his chopsticks. "Sora said some girl hurt her."

My hands are shaking as I lift a bite to my mouth.

Ritsu turns and looks at Koji. "Yes, that's exactly what happened."

My chopsticks clatter on the table.


	13. Choices

Principal Kurusu has yet to say a word in the five minutes I've been sitting in his office. The tension is almost palpable and reaching unbearable the longer I sit in this suffocating silence. I can already tell he's about to deliver bad news, so why doesn't he get it over with already?

Kurusu clears his throat, and I sit up in my chair. "I've reviewed your request, Miss Matsuda and while I admire your desire to preserve the good standing our school appreciates in the public eye, I cannot agree that your presence in any way hinders it. I'm sorry, but we've decided to decline your request to graduate early. There is still much you have to learn from your teachers here, and we wish for you to be prepared for what university will bring you."

I stand up and bow. "Thank you for considering my request at least; I won't take up any more of your time."

I head out of the room before he can stop me. I knew this was going to happen and I still went through with it anyway in the vain hope that maybe Matsuda and his powers that be might let me do it. After the other night with Ritsu and his family, I'm not sure why I even still had hope that my request would be approved. Whoever is pulling strings, be it Matsuda, Raku, or someone in a higher power, they obviously want me to follow down some preordained path.

A preordained path? That would certainly make sense, as it seems no matter what I do I'm hardly punished when I probably should've been long ago.

I wonder how true that is and if my life is being shaped by powers outside of my control. There's only one way of testing that theory and that would be to do something against the grain and see the result. I already know this being can influence the police, people associated with me, and my school. What else have they been affecting? Were people I consider my friends forced to play with me and call themselves my friends? Was my crush on Haru somehow created by this powerful being? Do I even possess a consciousness?

"You're very quiet," says Kira as he floats beside me.

I glance at him and shrug. "Just a lot on my mind."

"You didn't seem surprised when your principal told you that you couldn't graduate early," comments Kira as I turn down the hall towards my classroom.

"At this point, I was expecting it," I say quietly as I near the door. "Look at what happened with the Sagas."

"I suppose," he says as I open the classroom door.

"I apologize for the interruption," I say, giving my teacher a slight bow before I go over to my desk, ignoring the whispers and looks I receive as I pass by my classmates. I don't care anymore.

My teacher smiles kindly at me before she resumes the lesson. The chatter around me persists, and I do my best to tune it out, but some of it slips through my defenses.

" . . . heard she dumped Ritsu Saga already," says someone.

"Oh really? I heard he dumped her," says another.

"No wonder she looks so sad," says someone else.

"Can you blame her though? First Haru and now Ritsu. She doesn't have the greatest luck with guys."

Someone laughs. "Maybe she should try to go with a girl then. I hear Rika Hatori has a huge crush on her."

"I'd go out with her."

"You'd go out with anyone."

"True, but especially Rika. She's so cute!"

' _And a liar, a traitor, and a fake,'_  I supply mentally as I doodle in my notebook. I doubt she was ever my friend, to begin with, or that she even has a crush on me. She probably acted nervous and shy because she knew she was acting and was uncomfortable with it. I bet the same goes for Haru, Parisa, and Sango. None of them were probably my friends and just acted like they were because they were paid to; I wonder how much it paid them to be my friend? It must've been enough if they were able to keep up the façade for almost ten years.

"All right everyone," says my teacher, bringing me from my thoughts. "Please clear your desks of everything except a pencil and eraser. We're going to have our test today."

That's right; there's a test today. I let out a small sigh as I watch the teacher hand out neat stacks of paper, two the three pages in length with a staple through them along with the answer sheet. It's a history test, a test of facts, names, dates, and locations. Nothing overly complicated, which has very little to do with why I didn't study for it. This time last year, it wouldn't have even slipped my mind, but today I completely forgot about it.

When my teacher stops at my desk, she gives me a wink as she sets down the papers and I stare dumbly up at her. We maintain eye contact for a few moments before she looks away, apparently uncomfortable with my gaze and goes back up to the front of the classroom. I watch her go and sit at her desk, she picks up a red pen and starts marking other papers sitting at her desk while the students start the test. I finally open my packet and stare at the first few questions.

Multiple choice. Names, dates, and locations just as I thought. I begin filling in my answers.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" asks Kira from behind me. I don't look at him. I hear him move and he's suddenly looming over me; again I ignore him. "Your answers are wrong."

' _That's the idea,'_  I think as I continue to put down answers I know are wrong deliberately. I'm curious to see how my teachers deal with a situation where I honestly failed an exam or a project, and a history test is not an entirely poor choice for this test but a math or science one would have yielded more interest results. At least this way, I can fact check everything on this test and show the teachers that I am wrong and should mark me accordingly.

It feels strange to fail a test, to fail something for the first time in a very long time. Even if this is my choice, my stomach is still twisting with anxiety as I put down one wrong answer after another. This will be the first test I have ever failed. I wonder what Matsuda and Raku will think when my teacher calls them; I'm sure she'll call because a student like me flunking a test warrants a call home. Maybe they'll be disappointed, perhaps they won't care, or maybe they'll realize that they can't control absolutely everything in my life.

When I fill in the last blank space and choose the last answer, I discreetly glance up at the teacher, she's still immersed in her current work, and I slip my phone out of my pocket. First making sure my camera isn't going to make a sound or flash, I take a picture of my answer sheet and then my test questions. If this unknown person or Matsuda wants to ensure I pass, they might change the test to match my answers, and I need evidence for comparison. With that done, I stand up with my test and answer sheet and stride up to my teacher's desk. I can feel eyes on me but I'm used to that; I'm usually the first one finished during exams. I hand my test over to my teacher, flash her a quick smile and return to my desk to gather my things.

There's almost thirty minutes before my next class, plenty of time for me to mentally prepare myself for my next class, world religions with my pervert teacher. Ever since Kira told me that he looks at many other female students and me as if he can see us naked, I've become incredibly careful around him. I'm not sure what he's capable of, and quite frankly I don't want to know, so I do my best to avoid him when I'm at school, especially between classes.

I enter the library and find a secluded desk in the back. I pull out a book out of my satchel and try to make myself as small as possible as I read. My mind wanders to my exam, and my momentary euphoric feeling of rebellion begins to fade as I think on how poorly I did. I know it was a deliberate act, but I still feel like I've betrayed myself to prove a point, maybe there was another way, maybe I could've dug through Raku's things and found old school assignments or hacked into the school's database and found altered grades. Purposefully failing a test feels like such a stupid thing to do, in hindsight. I shouldn't have done it. I should've found a different way. What was I thinking?

"Noriko, are you alright?" asks Kira, the sudden sound of his voice causes me to jump, my knees bang on the underside of the desk, causing a loud noise that echoes through the otherwise silent room.

The librarian looks at me with narrowed eyes, and I give him an apologetic smile.

"I'm fine," I say in a hushed voice as I go back to looking at my book. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been looking at that page for several minutes and your eyes haven't moved past the first sentence," explains Kira and a cold chill goes up my spine as he moves closer. "What's bothering you?"

"My test," I reply quietly, not daring to look at him; it's enough of a risk just talking to him where anyone can hear. "I don't think I should've failed it on purpose."

Kira makes a noise that sounds like a hum, but it rattles in his throat. "Didn't you do it for a reason, though?"

I nod, glancing at the other few people in the library.

"You want to investigate Matsuda and Near, right?" he asks, and again I nod. "Then you have to be prepared to make sacrifices along the way if you want to have any hope of figuring their plan out." He puts his bony hand on my shoulder, and I involuntarily tense. He's so cold. "This is your first step, Noriko. What's one failed test when it leads you to the answers you're seeking? You understood when you did it what it would mean and why you were doing it, the only reason you're regretting it now is that you are back to looking at the details rather than the bigger picture. This one test will open up dozens of potential new leads; it'll set you down the path you need." His grip tightens slightly. "I'm proud of your sacrifice. You're starting to learn and the more you learn, the more you'll be prepared for when you do confront Near and Matsuda. You've done well, my child."

I freeze. He's never said that to me, not even when we were discussing my parentage did he even really acknowledge me as his child.

' _No, I'm not his child. I'm Light's child. This creature is Kira and the furthest thing from a father,'_  I remind myself forcefully, as I often find myself doing whenever we speak of my father. Sometimes I find it difficult to talk to him, which is why at times I ignore his presence entirely because I know that this creature used to be the man I would've called my father and at times, I wish he could be. I feel stupid and weak for even humoring those thoughts.

"Noriko," says a very unwelcome voice and I look up to see Ritsu standing beside my desk, a book in hand and a concerned look on his face.

"What do you want?" I ask as politely as I can manage. It takes every ounce of self-restraint I possess to sit in my chair and look at him when all I want to do is scream and hit him for his betrayal. I thought I might be able to trust him, that maybe he was immune to whatever Matsuda and this Near person have concocted to poison minds and alter reality. It seems I was incredibly mistaken.

"I haven't heard from you at all today," he says softly, and I doubt his tone has anything to do with the fact we're in the library. "And when I tried to talk to you this morning, you ignored me. Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

' _Oh yes, Ritsu, something did happen,'_  I think bitterly as I glance at my father's watch on my wrist. I should start heading back to class anyway, the perfect excuse to get out of talking to Ritsu. I put my unfinished book back in my satchel and stand up, slinging the strap over my shoulder and moving to walk past him. "Excuse me, I have class soon," I say stiffly, taking a step forward but he doesn't budge.

"Noriko, what happened?" he inquires again, and I roll my eyes. I'm getting very tired of dealing with actors.

"Nothing," I say sternly as I veer the other way and go around the desk from the other side. I hurry to the door and hear footsteps following me. "Go away," I say over my shoulder as I shut the library door, hoping that it gives him enough pause so I can put some decent distance between us, or better yet get to class before he can catch me.

"Noriko!" shouts Ritsu and I hear rapid footsteps behind me. He's chasing me.

"I said go away!" I say as I pick up speed, almost running to my classroom. I don't care if I get an infraction for running and shouting in the halls and disturbing other classes, I don't want to talk to him now or ever.

"Noriko, wait!" cries Ritsu, sounding closer. "I can explain, just please hear me out."

I roll my eyes. Yeah, of course, he can. "Get away from me!"

"Miss Matsuda, Mr. Saga, what is going on here?" asks a cold voice and I stop running short of running into Mr. Irie. How come it's always him?

Ritsu comes running up beside me, not even slightly winded. Must be thanks to his baseball training. "Nothing sir, I was trying to have a discussion with Matsuda and—"

"And she clearly didn't want to speak with you," finishes Irie sternly and the air suddenly drops ten degrees. The way he looks at Ritsu makes me concerned for his safety. "I suggest you return to your class, Mr. Saga, and cease your harassment of Miss Matsuda. Unless you'd rather have a talk with me after school?"

Ritsu looks at me and then at Mr. Irie before shaking his head. "No, sir, that won't be necessary." He then bows to him and turns to me, "I apologize for my earlier behavior, it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," says Mr. Irie and he gestures to Ritsu to leave, which he does although it appears to be somewhat reluctantly. "Are you alright, Miss Matsuda?"

Steeling my nerves, I meet his gaze, swallowing the bile that rises in my throat. "Yes, I'm fine, sir," I say with a firm nod. "Thank you for intervening. You didn't have to."

Mr. Irie's lips pull into a thin smile. "Of course I had to, Miss Matsuda, and there's no need to thank me. I was only doing the right thing." His smile then fades as quickly as it appeared. "I apologize for prying, but are you alright? You haven't seemed like yourself these last couple of weeks."

"I . . . I have a lot going on in my home life," I admit, deciding to fudge the truth as much as I can while remaining somewhat honest. The only authority figure I'm used to easily lying to is Raku. I highly doubt I can trust Irie, at this point I don't believe I can trust anyone, but it would be stupid to pretend everything's fine when he's clearly noticed a change. "I'm not sure how to deal with it all on top of school."

His expression is akin to sympathetic, and I wonder why he pities me. "I can only imagine the stress you're under," he says in what might have been a friendly tone, but I can't tell with him. "I think I might have a solution." He reaches into his coat pocket. "It won't erase the source of your stress, but it may give you a sanctuary to meditate and reflect on your life in a place where you can feel safe."

He extends a business card out to me, and I take it, it's a simple white rectangle, and when I turn it over, the black lettering is just as unassuming. I read the card, and my eyes widen slightly in surprise. He's recommending that I attend church?

"I know it sounds unorthodox, but it's an option," he says, using the same strange friendly tone from moments ago. "It's amazing how recharged you are after listening to a sermon and having some time to just be with yourself and God." He then puts his hand on my shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, your friend Parisa and her family attend. Think about it; there's no harm in going."

My skepticism must have been showing on my face for him to tell me something like that, and I find it strange, Parisa never mentioned that she and her family attend church. In all the years I've known her, she's never once told me that or given any indication that she's religious in any way. "Thank you, sir," I say as I tuck the card into my satchel.

"Now, it's time for class, come along," he says, opening the door for me.

I give him a shaky smile and head inside, while some primal instinct tries to remind me not to show my back to a predator. Unfortunately, I don't have a choice.

* * *

School ends, and as I walk from my locker to the front doors, I go over my rather packed schedule for the evening. I need to go and change, eat a quick snack and head to cram school, and then I need to come back and work on homework and my projects. I nearly laugh, just mere hours ago I purposefully failed an exam to see if my grades are being controlled by some higher power and I'm worried about finishing these projects. It seems rather silly the more I think about it.

I pass through the doors and head down the stairs, noticing Parisa standing with a group of girls from her cooking club. Her pink hair shines brightly in the afternoon sun, and I can see her white blonde roots just peeking out from underneath the hair dye. When we were kids, Sango thought Parisa's hair needed to be dyed because without any noticeable color, she looked like a ghost, and to be fair, she does resemble a ghost. Her skin is fairer than cream and her hair, when not dyed, appears to be the color of printer paper. The only thing that stands out about her is her bright, crystal blue eyes. Being young and somewhat impressionable to the opinion of her peers, Parisa agreed, and Sango gleefully dyed her hair a robust red color.

I tried to warn her that we should gradually work Parisa's hair up to that color but she didn't listen, and when she washed it out of Parisa's hair, her whole head was pink. Bright pink. She cried and screamed at Sango for ruining her hair, Sango tried to calm her down, and I ended up coming up with the solution to use a lightener to at least take most of the color out of her hair. It worked enough that her hair was no longer an awful shade of pink but it was still pink, she seemed to prefer this though and didn't say I ruined her hair as she did with Sango. Ever since then, she's kept her hair a constant pale pink. Only now she doesn't dye her hair and then use lightener, she just dyes it pink right off. I think the color suits her.

Parisa's eyes lock on mine, and she gives me a curt nod before going back to talking with her club members. A month ago, she would've been loathed to even associate with them outside of club hours, she's very particular about whom she spends time with and preferred our group to almost anyone, now she's talking with them easily as if she's always liked them. I feel a pang deep in my chest as I think back to a month ago when the four of us were happy and still friends. When my life wasn't completely ruined. When I could trust. It's hard to believe that it wasn't too long ago when all of that changed.

"She must've listened," says Kira and I glance at him. "She still can't see me, so she probably hasn't opened the package you gave her."

"I've put her in terrible danger," I say quietly as I walk towards the road that I use to get back home. "If anyone finds out what she has, she'll be arrested and pegged as a Kira associate."

"Or she'll tell them that she was holding on to it for you and you'll be arrested instead," he points out and I reluctantly nod. "You've put yourself in as much danger, Noriko. You should take it back."

"I can't," I hiss lowly, keeping my head down as I walk through the small throng of people on the sidewalk. "If Matsuda or Raku find it . . . They'll think I've become Kira."

Kira chuckles. "And what's wrong with becoming Kira? During my time, I had entire nations at my feet and legions of supporters, begging for my brand of justice. The world was safer because of me."

"The world was terrified because of you," I counter and I notice his red eyes on me. I intentionally ignore them. "What you did was scare the world into behaving by offering them no other alternative than death. That wasn't true peace. That was something temporary. If it had been meaningful change, then crime wouldn't have risen after your death."

He hardly seems surprised that I know so much about the world during his time and doesn't comment on me not being there to understand fully. I did a great deal of research after finding out my father was Kira.

"Perhaps you could offer the world lasting change," says Kira, sounding thoughtful. "I will admit that my method wasn't entirely flawless, I needed to be present to continually remind the population that I was still there and could still enact my justice. Maybe you could work from the background, showing them that Kira is still here but in a way that they don't fear as much."

"No," I say firmly, subtly glaring at him. "That would just justify everything that's happened to me up until now; it would prove that Matsuda and Near were right to watch me and monitor my life. I'm not going to do anything until I understand them more."

I wonder how much longer he'll believe that?

"Alright, that makes sense," he concedes although I can tell he isn't pleased about it. "So how do you plan on proceeding forward with your investigation? I highly doubt you can just ask Matsuda to take you to Near, and I don't think Near will contact you."

"I'm still working on that," I admit, slightly irritated. I know all of that already, and I'm quickly running out of angles. "I just need one lead. That's it."

"That's all it takes," agrees Kira and for once, we're on the same page.

Suddenly something grabs my arm and pulls me off the sidewalk. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm now in an alleyway, practically pinned against a brick wall and I immediately begin struggling, refusing to be someone's victim.

"Hey!" says my would-be-assailant. "Hey, Noriko, stop! I just want to talk."

In my blind panic, I fail to realize that the person holding me seems to know who I am. Instead, I continue to fight. I bring my foot up to kick the person and nearly succeed when the pressure on my wrists suddenly disappears, and I'm no longer being held against the wall. The realization calms me down, and I can finally discern my surroundings. I'm still in the alleyway, against a brick wall, but my attacker has a face, and it's one I've become familiar with the last few days. It's Ritsu.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I demand angrily, glaring at him as he stands across from me, arms against his chest. "Why'd you attack me?"

"I wasn't attacking you," he says sternly. "I was trying to talk to you, but you were the one who freaked out."

I roll my eyes. "I'm sorry, I forgot that it's perfectly normal to be pulled into an alleyway and pushed up against a wall before holding a civil conversation with someone. I am so sorry for forgetting the proper etiquette."

Ritsu drops his arms and shoulders in defeat. "I'm sorry, I just . . . I really needed to talk to you, Noriko."

"We have nothing to discuss," I snap, adjusting my satchel strap. "You made it perfectly clear last night when you lied to everyone, including me." I run my hand over my head. "What were you thinking? Did you think I wouldn't know? That I wouldn't notice you telling a completely different story? You know the truth, Ritsu and then you and your parents went along with whatever lie was being fed to you. Why? What possessed you to betray me like that?"

"I didn't have a choice," he says quietly, his eyes darting around as if looking out for something or someone. "They showed up at my house after school and made my parents an offer they couldn't refuse and—"

"This isn't the mafia; they could've refused," I interrupt, crossing my arms tight across my chest, hoping to conceal how badly my hands are shaking. "They didn't have to go along with whatever the hell those people said."

Ritsu sighs heavily. "Noriko, you don't understand. They offered my family a great deal of money if we agreed to go along with their story." He meets my gaze. "My family needs money like you wouldn't believe, things have been hard, and we were so close to losing the restaurant, and if that happened, we'd have to move and try to start over somewhere else. Believe me; I didn't want to go along with it; I thought it was wrong and suspicious, but I have a responsibility to my family. I'm sorry, as much as I like you, I'm not going to stand beside someone I barely know when my family is at stake."

His loyalty to his family is strong, and I shouldn't be surprised by his choice or his reasons, but I can't stop the emotional punch to the gut his words give me. It hurts to hear that I don't matter enough to inspire any kind of loyalty; that I'm not worth protecting.

" _You've never mattered to anyone."_

"I understand," I say coldly, determined not to let him know how deeply he cut. "It's admirable that you feel so strongly towards your family, Ritsu, truly inspired."

Ritsu lowers his eyes and looks away from me. "I'm sorry, Noriko."

"No, you're not," I say flatly. "You're just sorry that you couldn't have it both ways." Suddenly, as I replay his previous words in my mind, something sticks out. "You said they showed up after school, right?" He nods, and it encourages me. "Who were they?"

"A man and a woman," he replies with a shrug as if I should know this already. "They looked Western; both had blond hair. The woman looked like she'd had some work done on her face and the man only had a few wrinkles. It was kind of odd like she'd been frozen in time and he'd aged. They were kind of weird."

"Did they give any names?" I press, desperate to finally have some answers.

Ritsu nods. "Yeah, they did, they're names were Agent Rester and Agent Lidner. They didn't give any first names."

"They work for Near," says Kira and in my surprise, I barely prevent myself from looking over at him. "I can't believe they're still there."

"Thanks," I say as I start to head out of the alleyway. "See you around, Ritsu."

"Wha—Wait!" he shouts, and I pause. "Noriko, please, I still want to be with you."

"That's too bad," I say simply. "Because I don't want to be with you. Goodbye, Ritsu."

I don't turn around as I walk away. I can't turn around. I can't let him see my tears.


	14. Shell

"All of it," I say firmly. "I want all of it gone."

The stylist nods as she cards her fingers through the lower half of my hair. "Any particular style you'd like, hun?"

I nod and take a picture out of my pocket. I hand it to her, and she studies it for a moment, I watch in the mirror as she looks at the picture and then at me and then at the picture. It's difficult not to laugh when she furrows her brow as she looks at the picture, probably wondering about the resemblance between myself and the person in the photo. Finally, she nods and puts the picture on her workstation.

"Alright, dear, follow me," she says as she heads over to the shampoo station. I hop out of my seat and follow her, somewhat giddy with anticipation at the prospect of a makeover.

I sit down in the chair she indicates and recline back, assisting her in putting my long hair into the sink, and she runs the water moments later. I close my eyes and relax as she combs my hair with her fingers, allowing the water to penetrate the thick barrier and soak the layers underneath. The gesture calms me, and I let myself to unwind further, feeling a lifetime's worth of stress gradually melt away with each passing of her fingers.

" _All right everyone, I have your results from the last exam," said my teacher as she held up a stack of papers. Everyone else groaned but I was almost literally on the edge of my seat, I was finally going to get my answers._

_She passed out the answer sheets, sprinkling words of encouragement to those whom failed and praising those who passed, smiling at each of them. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to go to her and demand my answer sheet before she came to my desk. Finally, she arrived. She looked at the sheet and then at me, hesitating for a moment before she placed it on my desk, offering me a shaky smile before she hastily went to the next desk. She didn't offer any words to me, her smile was far from genuine, and I could only imagine what horrible grade would make her break her pattern._

_With trembling hands, I flipped over my paper and nearly fell out of my seat when I saw it. I got a perfect score. I passed. Without thinking I stood up, causing my chair to fall behind me, and the noise drew everyone's attention to me._

" _Matsuda, is there something wrong?" asked my teacher, sounding a touch nervous._

_I looked at her, my eyes wide and jaw slack. 'Yes, there is absolutely something wrong. You passed me when I failed, and I know I failed,' I thought as I stared at her, trying to find the right words to express my thoughts._

" _I failed," I finally said, just barely audible to even myself._

_My teacher looked puzzled. "What did you say, I couldn't hear you?"_

" _I said I failed!" I shouted as anger and frustration twisted in my gut. "I failed this test, and you still gave me a passing grade!"_

_She paled. "Wh . . . What do you mean? You passed, it's right there in black and white."_

_I pulled out my phone. "I took a picture of my answer sheet before I handed it in. I know exactly what it says and none of what I wrote is on this answer sheet."_

_She frowned and gave me a harsh look. "The use of technology during an exam is expressly prohibited, Matsuda, you of all—"_

" _That's what you took away from what I just said?!" I exclaimed, my voice just shy of an unacceptable volume. "I failed this exam on purpose, and I can prove it!" I looked at my answer sheet, and just as I thought, the correct answers are penned in, in what appears to be my handwriting. I snort. "You switched my answer sheet with one that has the correct answers. Very clever."_

" _Matsuda, I don't know what you're implying, but you need to take your seat and calm down," said my teacher, clearly grasping at straws in her attempt to regain control of the situation._

_Instead of listening, I reached down and picked up my satchel. I stuffed my books, supplies, and papers into it and headed for the door. "No, I don't think I will," I said as I left._

Someone pats my cheek lightly. "Sorry to disturb you, but it's time to go back to my station," says the stylist kindly when I open my eyes. I didn't even realize I had fallen asleep in the first place.

"I'm sorry," I say bashfully as I sit up. She quickly wraps a towel around my wet hair and pins it together. "It was so relaxing; I couldn't resist."

She smiles at me as she helps me up. "It's alright, hun, everyone does it at some point."

We head back to her workstation, and I sit down in the chair while she ties a cape around my neck. I assist in straightening it out over my front, and she unpins the towel from my hair, allowing the sodden tresses to hang freely before she chops them off. She then starts combing my hair with a real comb, bringing it to ramrod straight perfection.

"So what made you decide to get that haircut?" she asks, gesturing at the picture of a man on her station.

I look at it and shrug. "I guess I just wanted a change."

She nods. "Fair enough. It's kinda funny how much you two look like each other, you related to the man?"

"Yeah," I say with a gentle smile. "He's my father."

I see the stylist smile wolfishly in the mirror. "He's handsome, is he single?"

A hollow chuckle escapes my lips. "He's dead."

The woman's face falls, and she assumes an expression that is probably reserved for funerals. "I'm sorry," she says, and I shrug.

"It's alright, I didn't know him, he died before I was born," I explain, although that doesn't completely erase the pity in her eyes, in fact, it seems to deepen it.

"Poor child," I hear her whisper as she starts to cut my hair.

I watch as the pieces flutter to the ground, landing on the white tile with a soft splash, water that escapes pools around the parts. It almost looks like they're crying like they're sad to be gone from my head and I'm a little sorry to let them go, they were part of me for so long, and now I'm gracelessly removing them. Excising them like they're a foreign and dangerous body. I only wish I could do the same for myself. Remove the sickening parts of my life and free myself from whatever hell I've discovered.

_I felt numb. Completely, absolutely numb. How could this be true? How could I have missed it? I looked at my exam answers again and compared them back to the picture on my phone. There wasn't any doubt these were two different documents. I couldn't even begin to wrap my mind around it._

" _Noriko," said Kira and I looked at him. I couldn't tell if he was concerned, but I didn't care one way or another. He probably found this whole situation funny. "Noriko, you shouldn't stand in the rain."_

_I looked up at the sky. Oh. It was raining. I hadn't noticed. Wait, where was I? A quick glance around told me an alleyway, one of the many that litter this city. Where exactly, I wasn't sure, there wasn't anything familiar or discernable. Wait, how did I even get here? I tried to remember, but there was nothing between my argument with my teacher and now. It was completely blank. I obviously left, but I didn't remember exactly how or when. I didn't even know how long I'd been standing here._

_I looked back down at my answer sheet, now soaked from the rain. I didn't care; it didn't mean anything to me except proving a point I didn't want to see to fruition. I could almost laugh. Why did I expect it to be different? Considering all the evidence against me, why did I hope? Hadn't these past few weeks more than proved that nothing in my life is as I thought? I'm not as in control of my destiny as I always assumed. How pathetic. Some detective I'd be, I couldn't even figure out that outside forces controlled my every movement, that in reality, I was no more than a doll being directed without any say or knowledge. Even if I was aware of my strings, I couldn't do anything; I didn't know who to demand my freedom from, I didn't know what direction I was being moved in, I knew nothing._

_That was probably why I thought nothing would happen with this exam. I was stupid enough to believe that my intelligence was something that couldn't be faked. Throughout my life, whenever things didn't go the way I wanted, I could always fall back on the fact that I could perform well in school. I was smart, the smartest kid in school and everyone knew that. Now that reassurance has been taken from me, too._

" _Noriko, you should probably get home," said Kira, seemingly reaching out to me and I shrugged._

" _I don't have a home," I said as I started walking in the direction of where I lived. "I don't have anything anymore."_

Something touches my neck, and I jump slightly. The stylist jumps too and we look at each other, neither one of us speaks.

"Sorry, hun," she says gently, holding up her hands, there's a brush in one and a hairdryer in the other. "I was just going to blow dry your hair; I'm already done with the cut."

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. The smallest of smiles pull at my lips. "You must find me incredibly boring. I haven't really spoken to you."

The stylist shrugs. "Doesn't matter to me, so long as you don't complain about having short hair." She glances at the picture of Light again. It's the picture from his obituary, the only recent one I could find. "How'd your dad die? Illness? Accident?"

"He was murdered," I reply, and I see the pity in her eyes double. "He was murdered by a police officer."

Fear flashes in her eyes. "Why?"

"He was a mass murderer," I reply with a shrug, my voice barely above a whisper. "He was confronted and killed." I then reach up and unfasten the button behind my neck, releasing the cape. I pull it away and stand up. "I don't need my hair dried. It's raining outside anyway, so it'll just get wet again." I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. I count out what I assume I owe her plus tip and put it on her workstation before grabbing Light's picture. "Thank you for your time."

"You . . . You didn't even look at your hair," says the stylist gently, although she seems relieved to see that I'm leaving.

I shrug and stare into the mirror. The cut looks exactly like his if a little more feminine at the base. She didn't cut everything at the nape of my neck and left some covering it. I run my hand through it, watching as the shorter stands jump at the movement, it almost makes me smile.

"It looks good," I say, bowing to her. It's all I can manage these days. "Thank you again. I'm sure someone will be in touch with you in a couple of days to pay you to forget what I just said. Please, don't spend it stupidly."

The woman gapes at me as I head out of the salon. Eyes follow me as I leave and I don't even blink, I'm so used to being stared at and watched now, it doesn't even really register anymore. When I step outside, rain splatters on my head and shoulders, but it doesn't bother me; I don't even feel it. Kira is following close behind me, almost hovering, which is unusual. Usually, he stays a respectful distance from me; only close enough so we can hear each other speak. Now he's almost pressed up against my back. I shrug it off. He probably just doesn't like the rain. I recall he did this when I ended up in that alleyway. Maybe he's using my lifespan to keep himself dry. Someone should at least use it for something.

* * *

"I'm back," I say quietly as I enter the house. Silence greets me as I take off my shoes and jacket. I didn't expect anything different; I haven't seen much of them in the last few days. It seems to be deliberate on both ends. Even Koji has stopped speaking to me, or maybe that's how I rationalize it because I can't bring myself to talk to him anymore. I love him, he's my baby brother no matter what blood runs through our veins, but he shouldn't be near me. Especially after the other day, after he saw me like that. He probably sees me as a monster, and I'm glad, he needs to stay away from me. Everyone does.

I head upstairs to my room, my steps heavy and measured. They echo in the small space; a small reminder that I'm still attached to them, to this moment, that I'm still here. When I enter my room, I lock the door without even turning on the light and drop my bag haphazardly on my desk before going over to my bed where I fall. I bury my head in the pillow and put my back to the room.

"Noriko, aren't you going to do your homework?" asks Kira, sounding like he's on the other side of the room.

"No," I say half into the pillow. I'm a little curious as to his choice of conversation; he usually doesn't mention my homework or other responsibilities. Most of the time, he's content just to be quiet and make occasional talk about something of interest to him. My homework has never held any interest.

"What about cram school?" he presses. "Shouldn't you go?"

I shrug. Now he's acting a little strange. "What's the point?"

"You haven't been in a while, they're going to call," he argues, and again I shrug. Why does he care? If they call, they call, and I'm left to deal with the consequences.

"It doesn't matter," I say vaguely as I curl up, my back still to him. "Go find something else to entertain you; I'm too tired."

* * *

That doesn't sound like my daughter. I watch as she curls up on her bed, refusing to even acknowledge the world and I long to reach out to her, to reassure her that whatever she's feeling will pass. My heart aches as I watch her withdraw from the world, becoming a shell of a human, a shell of the person she used to be.

I watched her as she grew up, my only solace in death. She was a happy child, a cliché, but it applied greatly to her. She always seemed to be smiling about something or doing something that brought her joy. I enjoyed watching her learn how to play a song on the piano, watching as her eyes lit up when she mastered it enough to perform it all the way through without a break. I cheered for her during her first tennis match, my eyes glued to her and the way she moved across the course on sure footing. She didn't win, but it wasn't an easy loss, and she handled it well. I was so proud. I laughed when she and Koji would play Ping-Pong together, it was always entertaining and so full of sibling rivalry that it reminded me of my times playing games with Sayu. Koji reminds me a great deal of my little sister, especially when he's letting his competitive nature show.

Then I watched as Noriko played the piano less and less in favor of studying and perfecting her projects. The rare times she did play, she would only play one song and then be done, and oh how my heart sang when she played. I watched, as tennis became less about playing for fun and more about playing to win, how she pushed herself harder and harder each practice until she didn't make a single mistake. Her form flawless and her shots perfectly calculated. To the world, she appeared to be a stellar athlete, naturally gifted and unbeatable, but only I saw how she punished herself for falling short of perceived perfection. Only I saw the endless hours of practice she did at home in her backyard, cutting into the time she used to spend with Koji.

All of this I watched and let pass because I couldn't do anything about it. I was stuck on the other side just waiting, hoping for a chance to stand in front of her and tell her that it's okay not to be perfect. That it's okay not to achieve. That she doesn't have to try and prove a point to anyone. I wish Matsuda and his wife had never told her to keep her head down; they should've known it would just do the opposite, which may have been the intention all along. Now that we know Near was pulling strings and allowing her to succeed no matter what. The thought makes me sick.

Now I have her in front of me, hurting, crying out for help and I refuse to let that call go unanswered. I will not just sit and watch as my daughter retreats from the world, she needs to know that she is loved and wanted and the answer to someone's prayers, as blasphemous as they might be, those prayers were pure; at least when I uttered them.

"She's going to crack soon," says an unwelcome voice and I look up to see him standing in front of me. I hate him, with a deep burning passion. I hate what he made us. I hate what he's doing now. "Just another push and she'll be mine."

"She's stronger than you think," I say firmly, glaring at him as he turns to look down at me.

Kira smirks. "And you were weaker than you thought. All it took was two deaths. Two people died at your hand, and I was born." His smirk deepens. "I guess that makes you my father, Light, in a twisted perspective." He hums as he turns his head. "Does that mean Noriko is my sister? Or am I her father because we both created her out of our own desires? You longed for a child, and I longed for an heir. We got what we wanted in her. Well, I will, once she uses the book."

"And what makes you think that in her current frame of mind she'll use the book?" I demand as I rise to my knees. He keeps me chained to stay in control, to be the primary user of this body but he doesn't know I'm growing stronger and have been for seventeen years.

"She'll use it when I offer her the names of the people hurting her," he assures me, or himself, as he turns to look back at her. "She no longer cares about investigating anyone, now that her confidence in herself is completely shattered. She's just a shadow now, a being without purpose that used to serve one, looking for salvation. I'll deliver it to her. I will give her what she needs and then, she will be mine."

I try to launch myself from the wall when he says that, but my chains hold me fast, preventing me from moving more than a few feet. Not close enough to reach him. He's just out of reach like always, and I'm still held back, like always.

With an annoyed frown, Kira reaches over and slaps me hard in the face. "Impudent brat. No wonder she's so stubborn, with you for her father." He shoves me back onto the ground. "Learn your place, Light. You've had seventeen years to get used to being at my feet; I wouldn't aim for higher if I were you." He then kicks me in the stomach, hard. "And don't think I didn't notice you trying to talk to her. I didn't interfere because I need her to trust me and if it takes you to do that, then I'm prepared to let you have a moment with her but only a moment. Don't you dare try it again."

I glare at him, disgusted that we share the same form, that we were even at one time considered the same person. I was never him, not in the ways most think. When he took over, I was caged and unable to fight, the Death Note fueling his power and determination. He tried to destroy me but found he needed me; he needed to be like me enough to mask his true self, so he let me stay, and we formed an uneasy symbiotic relationship. He helped me, and I helped him, in doing so we both survived. It worked out well until he lost ownership of the Death Note.

Then I was free and in complete control of myself again. I couldn't remember much of when he was in control, but that didn't bother me as much as I thought it would, in fact, I was elated that I didn't have those memories. It meant I could start fresh. I could begin again. I could be anyone I wanted. I could be with anyone I wanted.

"Thinking of him again, Light?" asks Kira mockingly, a sneer on his lips. He looks terrifying like that. "Don't bother to deny it; I always know when he crosses your mind." He leans down and pats my head. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Light. You'll be with your precious detective just as soon as my agreement with the King is fulfilled. Until then, just sit back and be patient. Your eternity of nothing will come soon enough."

It doesn't even occur to him that my eternity might be his if this deal he's made doesn't go the way he's planning. He was arrogant and foolish to try and manipulate the  _Shinigami_  King, and it's starting to show. I can tell he's betting everything on Nori reaching her breaking point and begging for his help, but I can tell it won't come. She'll do something far more drastic before she even considers that option.

The night on the bridge wasn't the first time she thought of ending her life. She has a history, a dangerous pattern of becoming overwhelmed and feeling helpless. It happens to people like us, like her and I, people who want a more meaningful existence and feel it harder than others when we're knocked down. Her first attempt was when she was eleven before she found reprieve in tennis when her temper and other emotions were drowning her; she didn't follow through with it, didn't come close, but I nearly died when she held Matsuda's gun in her hand. Koji saved her; he knocked on her door and asked her to play. It was enough for her, to know that not everyone around her found her to be a burden or a nuisance. Koji earned my eternal gratitude that day.

I'm sure to an outsider; it would sound like she's more like her mother. Considering Misa wore her heart on her sleeve, it wouldn't be a bad assumption, but it would be wrong. Unfortunately, Nori is a great deal like me in many negative regards. She has my explosive temper, my predilection for making mischief when bored, and she's just as emotional. If I hadn't learned to hide and control my feelings when I was young, I would've lost my mind and blown my brains out long ago. I think it's part of being so intelligent; we're more aware of ourselves and situations and we just . . . Feel more than others. Until you learn to stem the tide, it's like swimming in a riptide with no hope of escape.

Noriko won't ever use the book. She's better than I was. She has no delusions of grandeur; she doesn't want to be anything other than herself, now more than ever. She just wants to feel whole and complete again; she wants things to go back to before she uncovered all of this and learned so much that made her doubt herself and the world. No, Noriko won't use the book to take down those who have wronged her, if she uses it, it'll be to take herself down.


	15. Struggle

The computer light irritates my eyes, and as I rub them, they hurt more. I've been staring at this screen for hours, combing through every file and document I could find on previous investigations, and I still haven't come up with anything solid. I look at my watch, it's nearly three in the morning, and I chuckle to myself. I remember when L, Ryuzaki, would complain about Light forcing him to turn off his laptop at this time so they could both get some sleep. My chest aches at the thought of them, I miss them, and I miss who Light used to be during that time. He was the perfect detective, a good friend, and someone who would've adored Noriko for all he was worth.

I try not to think of that time when we were investigating Yotsuba too much, it just makes what we learned more painful, and those sad memories taint the good. It's only in moments like these when I'm at my weakest that I remember how kind Light used to be and how right the world felt when he wasn't being influenced by the Death Note. That's the Light I picture being Noriko's father, and that's the Light I have tried to model myself after when it comes to her; I wanted to do that Light and Soichiro proud by being the father Noriko needed and deserved. And now I'm failing them both.

Noriko is dying before my very eyes, and I can't reach her. She won't let me, she seems perfectly content with wasting away, and I don't know how to help her if she doesn't ask. Raku's worried about Near finding out, and what it'll mean for us, she's worried what it'll mean for Koji if he wakes up one morning and discovers that Noriko is gone forever. This is already hurting him; I've seen the way he looks at Noriko's empty seat at the table and the way he sits outside her room with his chessboard. And I'll never forget the way he looked when we found her that day, the day we seemingly lost her completely. She's physically still here, but mentally it's like she's one foot in the grave.

I stare at the glaring screen. I really shouldn't be doing this in the dark, but I can't keep the light on, it might attract suspicion, and this is something I have to do. For Noriko's sake, I need to figure out a way to keep her out of Near's grasp because if I don't, she's going to slip away on her own and god forbid I let that happen. She's already slipping as it is and I'm struggling to even keep a small hold on her.

When I saw her haircut, I nearly had a heart attack. She looks so much like him, even with Misa's minor influence, I thought it was him come back from the dead. I saw his watch on her wrist, and my heart broke, she's already been to the bank and found her inheritance. I don't know how long but I'm sure it wasn't too long after she found out the truth. I have a feeling she knows more about the situation than she's let on, I think she knows everything important and is choosing to remain silent. She probably thinks I don't realize how much she knows, but I've seen the way she looks at me like she's disgusted with me. In all honesty, I'm pretty disgusted with myself.

There are so many moments in my life I wish I could redo. I wish I had looked harder at Misa's offer of giving her baby to us for adoption; I knew how she felt about Light and about me, and yet I didn't think too much on it until after she'd died. By then, it was much too late to do anything. I'm trying to make amends now, but it's hollow in its sincerity. It won't bring Misa back, and it won't make Noriko whole again. I wish I hadn't agreed to Near's stipulations and just rejected the idea completely. I didn't enjoy knowing that he would be meddling with Noriko's life but I went with it anyway because I thought it would help her, only now she knew the truth, and it has severely damaged her. She thought she could trust people and now she can't trust anyone. I blame myself for that, I agreed to Near's suggestion that we smooth over any issues she might have growing up, I just didn't know it would go to the extent it did.

Perhaps I'm too trusting; perhaps I thought Near would grow up a little and relax now that his biggest rival was dead and gone. I was always suspicious of how he was able to beat Light so easily, as it seemed to fall into place just a little too easily, and perhaps I should've trusted that gut feeling all those years ago. If I had, we might not be in this situation. Noriko might have been raised by Misa and be so much happier than she is or ever was. My wife and I might not be trying to pry apart the biggest crime-stopping organization from the inside; we might be happy with our son or however many other children we could have had had it not been for Near's other stipulation.

Raku and I had to agree not to have a child until Noriko was at least three years old. We were required to have a child, to give Noriko a sibling to interact and grow up with, which we thought was strange at the time but now I see what his true intentions were. He wanted to recreate Light's family situation, with a mother, father, and younger sibling. Looking back, I should've realized the truth, which was he wasn't simply looking out for Noriko's own good or ours for that matter. He always has a plan and a reason behind his actions.

Well, Raku and I pushed it back until Noriko was about five, then we started trying. Only, it didn't go as smoothly as we originally hoped. Raku and I learned that we both suffer from challenges that make conceiving a child naturally almost impossible, which was certainly a blow to both of us. We both felt like failures and in the end, to get Koji, we had to receive medical help. Those were probably two of the most trying years of my life, but it was entirely worth it when I held Koji in my arms for the first time. I knew then what it truly meant to love someone completely, wholly, and without a shred of doubt. He was perfect, a beautiful combination of Raku and myself. The epitome of our love. I wanted a dozen more but Near informed us that he would not supply the money for any more children after we asked for another and the treatments we'd received cost hundreds of thousands so we couldn't afford to do it ourselves. We should've fought harder and not given in to him so quickly. How young and stupid we were.

The sound of my office door opening breaks me from my spiraling thoughts, and I look over to see Koji standing in the doorway, holding his stuffed turtle to his chest. Even in the dim light, I can tell he's been crying.

"Hey, buddy, what are you doing up?" I ask as I gesture for him to come around my desk.

He almost runs over and hurriedly climbs on to my lap before I can even make the suggestion. He curls up into a small ball and rests his head over my heart, and I wrap my arms around him. "Nori's dreaming again," he says softly, his voice hoarse and he sniffles. "She was begging for her mom and dad, asking them to love her and help her."

I bite my lip and will myself not to cry. Lately, Noriko's been having dreams about Light and Misa, or so Koji tells me, he can hear her better than I can down here and Raku's taken to wearing earplugs, so she definitely doesn't hear her. "I guess she thinks they can help her more than us."

He wipes his eyes and sniffles again; his lips wobble into a sad frown. "If she needs help, then she can ask us! I want to help her, but she won't let me!"

I hold him tighter and kiss the top of his head. "Nori's mad at Mommy and I, Koj. She found out some things that really hurt her and she's blaming us. Deep down she knows we love her, and she loves us, but she's hurting, and it's hard to remember love when you're in pain."

Koji's frown deepens. "I've hurt before, and I still remember I'm loved. Remember when I broke my ankle? I didn't forget you loved me, and it hurt a lot!"

"I know, baby," I say gently as I tuck him under my chin. "But Nori's pain isn't physical. Her heart's been hurt, and that kind of pain isn't easy to get over. Do you remember when Yuri said she didn't like you even though you liked her?"

Koji nods, looking more sullen.

"Well, that's similar to what Nori's feeling right now," I explain as kindly as I can. I feel like I'm dumbing this down but I can't come up with a better way of explaining this to him. "It took you a while to get over being hurt like that, right?"

Again he nods as he cuddles his turtle. "I wasn't happy for a long time."

"Almost a month, if I recall correctly," I say thoughtfully. "And it's only been a few weeks for Nori, so give her some time."

"I just want my sister back," he says quietly, and then he looks up at me, his eyes glow brightly in the dim light from my computer. "I don't think she'll ever be my Noriko again, though. I think she's going to be a new Noriko."

His words cut me to the bone, and I almost crush him in my embrace. That's been my fear too, that this whole experience will change Noriko into a completely different person and not for the better. I'm worried that she'll become what Near's wanted all along.

"I can't promise that she won't," I say softly, and he nods. "I can't promise that she'll even be happy when she's finally better and I'm sorry for that. I wish I could help her and I feel like I've failed as a father to both of you."

Koji springs up and wraps his arms around my neck in a tight squeeze, almost cutting off my air supply. "Don't say that, Daddy," says Koji sternly as I wrap my arms around him. "You're not a failure. You're the best dad in the world, better than any dad I've known."

I want to cry, and a few tears do manage to fall down my cheeks.

"I think Noriko's being selfish," he says as he pulls away but not far. "She thinks she's alone. She wants her other mom and dad, but she doesn't realize that she's had them all along."

"I hope she realizes that soon," I say with a small sob and Koji goes back to hugging me. It's nice to know that even as one of my children is falling away, the other one is holding on for dear life, trying to keep us together with his strong arms and even stronger heart.

* * *

"Please, let me have control," I beg as Noriko cries out for me once again. It's been like this for days, and I can't take it anymore. I need to hold her; I need to calm her down. My entire being is physically hurting from watching her struggle and cry. If I don't soon, I think I'll go insane. My child is hurting, and I'm helpless to do anything to stop it.

Kira regards me carefully. "I don't think I can risk it, Light," he says with a shrug. "Knowing you, there's probably an alternate reason behind this behavior, and I can't trust that you'll give me back control."

"Do you think this is normal behavior?!" I demand, my voice rising as does my desperation. "She hasn't left that damn bed in days, she's been having endless nightmares, and is wasting away right in front of you!"

"She'll snap out of it soon enough," says Kira dismissively. "There isn't a point in interfering."

He's trying to sound nonchalant, but I can see it in his red eyes that he's worried. He isn't sure how to handle this situation and is trying to figure it out before he concedes defeat to me; he's a proud creature, and I'm ashamed to say that so am I.

"Please!" I cry, pulling desperately on my chains. "Just ten minutes, that's all I'm asking. You've been with her for weeks, and I haven't said a word, I haven't asked once, but please let me have this. She needs me."

Kira scoffs. "She's fine."

"She's dying!" I argue; I admit it was an overly dramatic statement but damn it, my paternal instincts aren't in the mood for rationality. They're screaming at me to do something, even if it means bartering with Kira. "If you let this continue if you don't let me at least comfort her, you're going to lose her. Everything you've been working towards will have been for nothing then, and you'll be stuck with me for eternity."

Silence follows my words. I watch him carefully for any signs that he's going to relent. Even if he doesn't like it, he knows I'm right. Noriko's behavior is getting out of control; she's only getting worse as more time passes and he's running out of time. If I'm right, he'll be desperate enough to listen to me and let me have my time with her.

"Damn it," he mutters as he once again looks at Noriko as she thrashes around in bed. I try to keep my expression neutral as I watch the gears turn in his head, he's clearly torn between letting Noriko continue to suffer and allowing me a few minutes to try and reassure her. His plan hinges on Noriko being able to use the notebook, and if she loses her internal battle, then he loses, and he really hates to lose. I never cared about winning like he does, although right now, I've never wanted anything more.

I can feel a shift in the air as he turns back to me. "Fine," he says tersely. "Ten minutes, but you'd better remedy this Light and not do anything funny. Remember, I'll be with you the entire time, and if I don't like what you're saying or doing, I'll take over again. Understood?"

I nod, barely able to believe my luck.

He steps towards me. "And one more thing, you must promise to go back into your chains once your time is up. I'm not going to risk having you ruin my plans just for some bonding time with your child."

"I promise," I say, and he snaps his fingers, releasing the shackles on my wrists. I absentmindedly rub my wrists, expecting there to be chaffing but it's just a distant memory that echoes in the clattering of the metal handcuffs.

Kira takes a step back and stands where he'd kept me chained while I step forward towards where he normally stands. The change is immediate, and I can feel the body we share quickly becoming mine once again. It feels so liberating after so many years to finally have my body back.

I look down at myself for the first time in a very long time and let out a small sigh. I look the same now as when I died. I touch my face, it's at least human and won't scare Noriko when she sees me. I groan as the moonlight shines on my body. There are five bullet holes, three in my torso, one in my right shoulder and one in my right wrist. My suit is covered in dried blood and dirt. I reach up and touch my hair, only to sigh when I touch it; my hair is still heavily disheveled from where I fell in the puddle, and then the wind caught it as I ran away. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that this is my form now because this is also my form when I'm not in control of my body.

I peer into my mind and see Kira, and I can't help but hate him more. He looks like the pristine version of myself I presented to the world, freshly pressed suit and all. I guess I should take comfort in the fact that I died as my old self rather than as him; Kira died on the warehouse floor, and Light Yagami died on warehouse stairs. Then we were both forced together again at his request, for one final wager, one last game.

"Get on with it," he drawls from somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind. "Your clock's ticking, Light."

I grit my teeth. That bastard is taking way too much pleasure in this.

"Dad, please, don't go," I hear Noriko whimper and faster than I ever thought possible I'm at her side, sitting next to her on her bed.

I gently run my fingers through her short hair, relishing the feel of the silken strands on my skin. "It's okay, Nori," I say quietly, reassuringly. "It's okay, baby, I'm here."

Her shallow breathing evens out, and she stops trembling. I continue to caress her head, her hair is so soft, and I can smell her vanilla shampoo that still clings to the strands. With my free hand, I reach over and turn on her bedside lamp, bathing us both in soft light.

Noriko's eyes flutter open a few moments later, and she stares up at me, her amber irises wide with amazement, her dark lashes clumped together from her tears, and her eyes rimmed red and littered with small red bruises from crying so hard. They can almost be considered freckles except they encircle her entire eye. She blinks and just stares at me as if wondering if I'm real or just a figment of her imagination. I keep carding my fingers through her hair, unable to stop myself even if I tried.

"Dad?" she asks, her voice raw and a bit scratchy.

I nod, smiling warmly.

Suddenly her arms are around me in a crushing embrace, one I eagerly return. Oh god, there aren't enough words in any language to describe the feeling of finally being able to hold my daughter in my arms. Even if there were, I don't think I'd use any of them because they wouldn't be adequate. I can't even sum it up in one word, not a single word can fully capture this sensation, and I'm glad. This is better than I ever hoped.

"You came," she says into my ear with a watery hiccup.

I hold her tighter. If she hiccups, it usually means she's going to cry again. Several years of watching her and these last few days have taught me that. "Of course I came," I say as my eyes brim with tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

"It's okay," she says, hiccupping again. "Don't be sorry. It's not like you can help it."

I chuckle. "That's true." I pull us apart so we can face each other, although I don't let go of her and she doesn't let go of me. "Baby, what's wrong? Why are you so upset?"

Noriko sniffles a little and I wipe away a few stray tears with the cuff of my sleeve. "I don't know who I am anymore," she replies and my heart cracks. "I thought I did but . . . Now . . . Now I don't. I feel so lost." She breaks down crying again and rests her forehead against my shoulder.

I can feel tears running down my cheeks as I hold her, rubbing small circles on her back the way my mom used to comfort Sayu and me when we cried. I wonder if Mom ever felt this devastated whenever we cried. If she did, then I admire her even more.

"Nori, honey, I need you to listen to me, okay?" I say quietly, still holding her, still rubbing her back. Her sobs calm for a moment. "I know this seems hopeless, and I know you feel like you're lost at sea, but I need you to listen. You are so much more than who you thought you were." Flashes of that horrific night flash in my mind, the night I thought I lost her forever. "You aren't just a smart girl destined to make a name for herself. You are kind, sweet, caring, and brilliant. You're a talented pianist and a diligent study. You are a wonderful big sister to a wonderful little brother who misses you so much. You are everything I ever wanted in a daughter, and you make me proud. You have no idea how much I love you and how happy you've made me."

She's stopped crying completely now, and I take the opportunity to move her away from my shoulder to look at her. The bruises around her eyes seem darker, and her cheeks glisten with fresh tear marks. In all my years of watching over her, I've never seen her so completely distraught. It almost makes me want Kira to get his revenge.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, not looking me in the eye. "I must be . . . be a wreck if you're here."

I cup her chin and force her to meet my eyes. I need her to understand that she isn't alone and that she matters. "I'm here because I love you," I say firmly, and her eyes widen slightly. "Nori, if I didn't love you and I didn't care, I wouldn't be here, but I do. God do I love you." I smile softly. "You are probably my greatest accomplishment, Noriko. You could put everything I ever did in life in a pile, and it wouldn't even compare to you."

Now her eyes are the size of plates, and I can't help but laugh. She's too cute like this.

"Why are you laughing?" she demands, sounding irritated.

I calm down, but I'm still smiling. "Because you looked cute. I'm sorry for laughing, but I couldn't help myself. It was just too damn cute."

She smiles a little at that, and I count that as a huge victory. "Did you really mean all of that, Da—Light?"

My heart sinks slightly. "Please, call me Dad."

"Dad," she says gently, and I smile again. "Did you mean that?"

I nod. "Yes, I meant it. I meant every single word." I cup her face. "Noriko, you are a very brave and strong young woman. You will get through this, all of it, and you will come out victorious in the end. Promise me you won't give up, promise me you'll keep fighting."

"I promise," she says after a moment. "I love you, Dad."

"Oh baby, I love you so much," I say as I wrap her in my arms again.

There's so much I want to tell her, so much that she needs to know. I want to warn her about Kira and his plans. I want to warn her about Near and give her advice on combating him. I want to tell her how to reconcile with Matsuda and his family because she is going to need them, even if she doesn't see it right now, she's going to need his help. I want to tell her about myself and the family she never knew, I want to tell her about Sayu and Misa and L, I want her to know everything there is to know about all she missed out on. I want her to know without a shadow of a doubt that I would bring down heaven and hell if it meant keeping her safe and happy and have her understand how much I love her.

There's so much I want to say, but there isn't enough time, there will never be enough time. So, I'll settle for this for now, for a few minutes of being a father to the daughter I dreamed of having when I was twenty-three. I'll settle for the feeling of her curled in my arms and her heart beating in time with mine, and hope that I can meagerly convey everything I'll never say.


	16. Rectify

It's strange to be back at school after being away for so long. I'm not even sure how long it's been since the last time I set foot in these hallowed halls; I don't remember which day I decided to stay curled up on my bed and never leave. I just remember the events that led up to that decision and the crippling feeling of helplessness that eventually dragged me down into my depression. I feel better now, lighter than I have in days. I wonder how long the feeling is going to last.

"Ah Matsuda, good of you to join us today," says my homeroom teacher as I sit down. Today is the first day I've been back to school in a while. "Are you feeling better?"

"Well enough," I reply pleasantly as I pull out my books and papers for my first class. "Thank you for asking." I wonder what lies the school was fed concerning my condition.

She smiles before going back to calling roll, speaking to each student in turn and asking about their previous evening.

I tune out the conversations and pull out my phone, confirming for myself once again that Parisa is going to be at school and she is going to bring me back the notebook. I breathe a little easier. It's about time I had it back and not a moment too soon. I glance over my shoulder at Kira, standing in the back of the classroom, he's watching me as I suspected. It's like he knows that I'm getting the notebook back today.

I frown a little as I look at him. When I woke up the other day, I thought Ligh—Dad would still be there, but he was nowhere to be found. The only person in my room was Kira, and when I asked him where Dad went, he didn't reply. I have a feeling he knows what allowed my father to visit me but he isn't going to say, probably because he's afraid I'll try to repeat the process. He's not wrong.

I look around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings of a classroom I have spent hours in, learning various subjects and interacting with the same people since the start of the school year. It's the same, nothing's changed, but it feels new. Like what I knew before was part of a dream, and this is the true reality. Thinking about that, I realize that it was a little exciting to leave my room this morning, something I didn't do even for food during my self-imposed confinement. Someone always brought food to me, even if what they brought was small like a sandwich or a piece of fruit. Still, it was enough for me to survive.

Leaving my room was like stepping out of a cave and finding out that everything I saw in it was just an illusion, something someone wanted me to see. It was like seeing the world as it truly is for the first time. Koji nearly took me down in a huge bear hug when he saw me this morning. He burst into tears and made me promise never to do that again. Faced with his beautiful face covered with tears, I had no choice but to agree, even if as I made it the words felt hollow and untrue. I can't promise that I won't have another breakdown, I can't tell him that I'll be perfectly normal and this won't happen again. Still, I had to promise him something because he truly deserves something to trust in, so I promised him that I wouldn't lock myself in my room ever again.

"I heard she got an abortion," I hear a voice say and I refrain from rolling my eyes. Honestly, some to of the rumors that spread are incredible. "I heard it was Saga's and her parents made her get rid of it."

"How horrible! No wonder she's been gone for so long."

"And why Saga looks like crap."

"Wait, I thought they broke up?"

"I think the baby was why they broke up."

"He should be relieved; now he doesn't have to be a dad at seventeen."

"Are you sure that's right? I heard she was arrested for assault."

"Oh please, those charges were dropped on both sides of the case. Someone told me told me that she'd fled the country."

Someone laughs. "No way! That's totally untrue."

And me having an abortion is more believable? What the hell is wrong with people?

Suddenly the classroom door opens, and everyone turns to see Ritsu. I'm just as surprised as everyone else to see him standing there. His eyes lock on mine and in seconds he's striding over to my desk, a determined look in his eye and I wonder what's going on in his mind. He doesn't look angry or upset with me, in fact, he looks . . . Relieved? Before I can say anything, I'm hauled out of my chair and into his arms in a tight hug. His arms wrap around my shoulders and waist, forcing my head to rest on his shoulder and despite my best efforts, I smell his cologne. I can't move, my arms are pinned to my sides; otherwise, I would've shoved him off.

"We need to talk," he whispers in my ear.

He pulls away, looking desperate and pleased with himself, while I stand there completely dumbfounded. Every eye in the room is on us, and I can practically hear the rumor mill churning out something salacious to go with the tale of my abortion. What the hell is wrong with people?

"Mr. Saga, is there a reason you've disrupted my class?" asks my homeroom teacher, drawing our attention.

Ritsu nods. "Yes ma'am, I need to speak with Matsuda for a few minutes. It's urgent."

She seems skeptical and probably would've believed him if he hadn't immediately hugged me after entering the room without an explanation. "All right, but don't cause a scene when you return," she says dismissively.

I want to protest and tell him to leave, that I don't want to talk to him about anything ever again, but the desperate look in his eye kills the words before they can be voiced. I'm not sure why, but this feels important. I grab my books and Ritsu takes my bag and jacket. We leave the room, and once we're outside my class, he grabs my hand and starts dragging me off towards the door for the roof. It should be closed, now that winter is getting closer, which is why I'm surprised when Ritsu opens it so easily. I see him tuck a small silver key into his back pocket moments before he's dragging me up the stairs.

"Why do we need to talk?" I demand as we go up the stairs. "I thought I made myself clear earlier."

"You did, I just don't care," he replies, and I glare at his back.

He lets go of my hand and opens the door that leads to the rooftop, a massive gust of cold air hits me, and I instinctively wrap my arms around myself. Ritsu then offers me my jacket, and I snatch it out of his hand, throwing it on and zipping it up at an alarming speed. He shakes his head and puts my satchel by the door and ushers for me to step outside. I look at him skeptically, but I obey. If he were going to do anything unsavory, he wouldn't have just dragged me out of a classroom with thirty witnesses.

I almost ask him about a jacket for himself when I see him untie one from around his waist and put it on before he steps away from the door and closes it. Now we're standing on the roof in silence, with only the wind and the city around us making any noise.

"I've been worried about you, Nori," he says as he sits down on a nearby bench. He motions for me to sit and I do, at the complete opposite end of where he is.

"Why?" I ask shortly, not really in the mood to humor him.

Ritsu sighs heavily. "Koji called me and told me what's been going on."

I tense. "Why does Koji have your number?"

"We traded numbers that day our families had dinner," he replies with a shrug as if it should've been obvious. Maybe it was, but I don't remember much of that day. "I wanted him to have someone to talk to."

"He has me," I say, but it sounds dull even to my ears.

Ritsu shrugs again. "Maybe, but from what he's told me, you haven't been in the best state of mind to help him."

"So is this going to be about Koji?" I ask, genuinely curious and to my surprise, he shakes his head.

"No, this is about you," he says sternly. "Koji told me what you've been going through and it has him scared. Hell, it had me scared and I know I'm part of why you've . . ."

"Had a mental breakdown," I supply, and he nods. "I won't lie, Ritsu, you and your parents, are part of the reason. You're not the whole reason, but you are part of it."

Ritsu's shoulders slump under the weight of my words. "I thought so." He looks at me, his eyes wide and pleading. "Do you know why I wanted Koji to have someone to talk to?"

I shake my head.

"Because when I was his age, I went through something similar," he says quietly, averting his gaze a little. "When I was about ten, my older sister Umaru, my mom's child from her first marriage, started to behave . . . Strangely. She was a pretty good student and fairly active at school; she liked to run track and swim. Then, she started hiding in her room a lot. When she did come out, it was only to argue with my mom and dad. She wouldn't talk to me much, and we'd been fairly close growing up, despite our five-year age difference. Anyway, she started to change, and not just that she didn't leave her room much. She started dressing differently. Wore dark colored clothes and heavy makeup. She cut her hair really short and dyed it black."

He looks at my hair, and I unconsciously run a hand through it.

"She started smoking and sneaking out of the house," he continues. "My parents thought she was just rebelling and would get over it, but I saw something else. I saw her asking for help. I was too young to really understand what was upsetting my sister and to this day I don't know, but I wish I did because . . . Because then she still might be here.

"I should've known something was going to happen, because Umaru came into my room and gave me her stereo and CD collection, along with her laptop. She said she didn't need them anymore and that I could have them. I thought maybe Mom and Dad were getting her new ones and she was just giving me her hand-me-downs like always." He lets out a mirthless laugh. "I was such an idiot."

"You were ten," I counter gently, quietly. I know where this story is going and I can see the guilt on his face. He blames himself for not saving his sister, which is why he's here now because he wants to try and save me. "You couldn't have known, Ritsu."

Ritsu looks at me, his gaze steady. "I know, but hindsight sucks." He looks up at the cloudy sky. "Mom found her. She was hanging from the ceiling, her sheets wrapped around her neck." He closes his eyes and looks down. "Mom was hysterical. She couldn't even speak . . . She was just . . . Screaming. Dad called the ambulance, and I came home from school just as they were bringing her out on a stretcher, my mom screaming about them taking away her baby. I didn't understand then; I thought Mom was sending my sister away. I tried to tell her not to send Umaru away, and I tried to stop the paramedics from putting her in the ambulance, then my dad told me what happened. I don't think I stopped crying until I went to sleep."

His voice hitches and I put my hand on his shoulder.

He smiles at me for a moment, a fleeting grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "After that, my mom wasn't the same. She fell into depression and couldn't get out of bed except to stand in Umaru's room and cry. I even caught her sleeping on the floor in her room a couple of times." His gaze becomes distant, likely getting lost in the memories. "She lost her job not long after. She was given bereavement, but she didn't return after that. She couldn't. Once she lost her job, she became even more depressed, and we had to sell the house because we couldn't afford to keep it. Dad used what little savings we had to buy the restaurant. We moved into the apartment above it, and my mom stayed in bed for weeks, blaming herself for being a failure and all sorts of things.

"It's only been in the last couple of years that she's pulled herself together enough to even interact with customers. I know that doesn't match with the woman you met, but believe me, she hasn't been like that in years. She's still not capable of going to work, though."

Realization dawns on me, and I retract my hand. "That's why your family accepted the money."

Ritsu nods, not meeting my eyes.

"And why you feel responsible for your family's well being," I continue softly. "You blame yourself for not saving your sister, which led to your family's current state. You felt that if you didn't accept the offer, it would be failing your family again."

Again he nods. "I didn't want to lie," he says, his voice slightly rough and I wonder if he's about to cry or something. "I don't like lying; it reminds me too much of when Umaru was . . . and I didn't like lying to you or about you." He runs his hand through his hair. "I'm not going to ask you to forgive me; it's not my right to ask."

"Thank you," I say, and he looks at me then. "And I'm sorry about Umaru."

He smiles a little warmer, and his eyes have a bit of their usual sparkle back. "Thanks."

"I wouldn't have jumped," I say suddenly, my mind snapping back to the night he pulled me down from the bridge. I'm not sure why I feel compelled to say that, but it just slipped out. "I wanted to, but I wouldn't have gone through with it." I play with the hem of my jacket. "The moment I leaned forward, I thought of Koji, and then you grabbed me, and I knew I wasn't going to die that night. In a way, you both saved me. I stopped because of Koji, and you pulled me back before I could change my mind."

Ritsu reaches over and touches my arm. "And I still don't regret that. My only regret in all of this was agreeing to lie for those people. Especially after Koji called me up and told me what happened."

I tense again and look away. "What exactly did he tell you?"

"Everything," he says simply, likely sparing the details for my sake. "He was so worried about you, Noriko, and so was I." He squeezes my arm. "I . . . I couldn't stand the thought of you going through that. It made me sick, and every time Koji called me . . . I thought it was going to be to tell me you were gone." His grip tightens, and he slams his eyes shut. "I was so mad at you, at myself, at the world! I was fine with you hating me because at least you were alive but . . . But that night kept playing in my head . . . and I kept dreaming about what would've happened if I hadn't been fast enough . . ."

Tears leak from the corners of his eyes. "I already failed Umaru. I couldn't fail you . . . But I did anyway . . . and you have no idea how much I regret it!" He sniffles and loosens his grip on my arm. "And then . . . Koji called me this morning and said you were going back to school. I ran as fast as I could to get here, in fact, I ran straight to your classroom." He chuckles slightly. "You weren't there yet, so I had to go to mine, and wait. Then I heard some of my classmates mention your name and I left. And here we are."

"Here we are," I echo, my eyes darting to the hand on my arm. "Thank you for being there for Koji."

Ritsu grins. "Any time. He's a great kid."

"He is," I agree as I look out at the world around me. This is honestly the last thing I expected when Ritsu came barging into my classroom and told me that we needed to talk. In hindsight, it couldn't have been anything else. "Thank you for telling me about Umaru."

"No problem," he says quietly, squeezing my arm gently. "I just . . . I just wanted you to know that you do matter to people, Nori. I know it doesn't seem like it, because of all the stuff that's happened, but people do care."

"Why do you care?" I ask sharply, my eyes narrowing at him. "As you said, you weren't going to turn on your family for someone you barely know."

Ritsu swallows and looks apprehensive. "Do you remember when Sora said you were the love of my life?"

I nod, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well, it's true," he replies, blushing hard. "I've been in love with you since you transferred to my school in fourth grade."

My eyes widen, and he chuckles nervously. I thought this was a recent crush, not . . . Not something this long.

"You made it sound new," I say quietly, looking at my lap.

I feel the boards on Ritsu's side of the bench bend a little; he's probably shifting in his seat. "Well, I wasn't sure how to tell you that I've had a really huge crush on you, that I might be in love with you since we were nine."

"You just did," I point out, looking up just in time to see him turn scarlet. I then frown. "I'm sorry for destroying whatever illusions you had about me. I think it's pretty obvious I'm not the kind of person everyone says I am."

"You're right about that," he says with a chuckle, and I remember at the last second not to glare as he turns to look at me. "You're better."

I look down at my lap. "No, I'm not. The girl you were in love with, Noriko Matsuda, doesn't exist anymore and she's not coming back."

A hand comes into my view and takes mine, a little tentatively, but I don't move it away, even if I wanted to I don't think I could. It's nice to have someone beside me, to say they care, even if they won't when this is over. I just want to bask in this illusion for a little longer.

"Then who am I in love with now?" he asks curiously, and I look up to see his emerald eyes gazing at me with a deep, kind light. I feel my cheeks burn. I've seen Matsuda look at Raku that way.

"Noriko Yagami, I suppose," I reply with a shrug and his eyes widen. "I have a confession to make. I'm not in foster care. I'm adopted. When I told you that, it was just after finding out, and I was still trying to process the information. I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you, it wasn't to hurt you or anything, I just . . . didn't know how to say that I recently found out that my entire life was a lie."

Ritsu moves closer, and he laces our fingers together. "I understand, Nori. If I were in that position, I'm not sure how I'd explain it to strangers either. You did what you thought was best for you and I can respect that. So, how is everything in your life a lie?"

'Damn, I didn't mean to say that out loud,' I chide internally as I struggle with what to tell him. It would be easy to spin a tale about how Matsuda and Raku kept the secret from me and that finding out what happened to my birth parents is why I'm on this path to self-destruction, but that wouldn't be fair to Ritsu. He deserves something more than that, and if he's as determined as I think he is to keep me around, especially after helping Koji, he's earned the right to know the truth.

"I grew up thinking that my adoptive parents were my biological parents," I say softly, keeping my eyes on him as I speak. "I started to suspect I was adopted when I was seven after Koji was born. My parents treated him differently from me and . . . Well, I now know why. Anyway, a few weeks ago, I overheard them arguing. It was about me, and I wanted to hear why they were fighting about me because they've fought about me a lot over the years. That's when I learned I was adopted."

"Nori," says Ritsu, squeezing my hand.

I chuckle dryly. "I'm not finished yet. I decided to investigate and see if I could find out anything about my birth parents from my adoptive parents. I went through some files I found in my adoptive parents' room and learned that my parents are actually Misa Amane and Light Yagami."

Ritsu's eyes widen comically. "Are you serious?! Your dad is Light Yagami?!"

I laugh. "And if you were Sango, she'd have been fixated on the fact a pop idol and actress is my mother."

"Well, that's cool too, but Light Yagami?!" exclaims Ritsu, looking at me in awe. "No wonder you're so smart."

I frown. "Believe me, Ritsu, that's not why." I clear my throat and shift a little in my seat, preparing myself for what I'm about to tell him. "Ritsu, what I'm about to say can't go any further than you. I don't care if those people show back up at your house, you can't tell them anything of what I'm going to tell you, do you understand?"

Ritsu nods solemnly. "I promise."

"My father was murdered by my adoptive father," I say sternly, and he looks dismayed. "He killed him because . . . because my father was Kira."

If he looked concerned before, he looks downright horrified now. "Kira?"

I nod, and I can tell he believes me.

"Holy crap," he mutters before bringing me into a crushing embrace. "I'm so sorry, Noriko."

I fold against him, wrapping my free arm around his torso. "It's fine."

"Still, that's terrible," he says, holding me closer. "And for the man who killed him to adopt you . . . that's just sick."

I laugh mirthlessly. "Believe me, I know. Nothing about this situation is healthy."

"That's for damn sure," says Ritsu with a nervous chuckle as we pull away. Our eyes meet easily, and the corners of his mouth dip a little as he looks at me. "I can see why you wouldn't want anyone finding out about that. I swear, I won't tell anyone, even if I'm tortured."

Fear spikes in my heart. "Let's hope it doesn't come down to that," I say quietly, and he looks at me suspiciously. "Sorry, it's just . . . there's more to this than just my father's past."

"There's more?!" he asks incredulously. "What else could there possibly be?"

'You're about to find out,' I think sadly. "My life is being manipulated," I say in a hushed voice, unsure of how many ears my enemies have. "You already know about that, but it goes further than trying to cover up an assault." I glance around furtively. "My grades are being messed with as well. I recently failed an exam, knowingly failed an exam, but when I got it back it wasn't graded that way. I'd passed with flying colors, in fact, I think it was the highest mark in the class."

Ritsu's eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

I nod.

"So . . . So anything you've done could've been manipulated," he breathes, and I nod again. He shakes his head. "God I'm such an idiot. I knew there was more to this whole cover-up thing than just trying to keep you out of prison."

"Is that what the agents said to get you to cooperate?" I ask, and he nods.

"Yeah, they must've known how I feel about you," he sighs, sounding frustrated. "They used that and my parents' financial situation to get me to agree." He looks at me, his eyes full of concern and regret. "I'm sorry, Noriko. I really am."

"I know," I say gently. "If you weren't, you wouldn't have been so upset that day I came over with Koji and his parents. I knew something was wrong."

Ritsu snorts. "Umaru always said I was a terrible liar."

"That's a good thing, though," I counter and he smiles. "I hate lying, but I'm good at it. I think it's one of the few things I come by naturally unless I'm actually a horrible liar and everyone's just being paid to believe me."

"Well, just know that I'm not being paid to like you, just to lie," he says with a slight chuckle, and I smile in return.

He moves his hand from mine and puts it around my shoulders, holding me against his side. I remember deducing not too long ago that he has no experience with girls, but maybe I was wrong about that, or maybe I'm just an exception.

"I understand why you . . . Broke down," he says, sounding hesitant. He likely thinks it's a sore subject for me, and to a certain extent it is, but he already knows about it, so there's no point in denying the truth. "Finding out all of that about your parents and then finding out that someone's playing god with your life . . . That's too much for someone to handle all at once . . . or ever."

Relief washes over me, and I can hardly believe that he's so accepting of this. "You're taking this surprisingly well, Ritsu. I'm surprised you haven't called me out as a liar or attention-seeker."

Ritsu raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Nori, I had two people who called themselves agents show up at my house and bribe my family to repeat a story I heard going around at school even though we knew the truth. The least I can do is believe you."

I laugh, for the first time in days, and it feels good. It feels incredible even.

"I like your laugh," he says suddenly and then blushes. "Sorry, inappropriate."

"Ritsu, we're cuddling on a bench, I think a compliment is acceptable," I say teasingly, and he laughs. "I'm surprised you stuck around, most guys would take what I said to heart and leave me alone."

Ritsu shrugs. "I was going to, even though I still wanted to be with you in whatever way I could. Then Koji called me and I . . . Something told me said that if I backed out now, I'd regret it for the rest of my life. So I didn't. I decided to be there for you whether you wanted me or not." He looks down at me nervously. "Did I make the right choice?"

I smirk. "Yes, Ritsu, you did."

And so did I.


	17. Rebel

This is unbelievably fucking crazy. There's no other way of saying it. We're certifiably insane. And I'm the one who suggested it.

"There, the last of the money," says Ritsu as he comes back to me with a handful of bills, which we shove unceremoniously into my satchel along with the rest of the money we took out.

I zip it closed and try not to think about all the laws I've broken.

"Is that everything we need?"

' _Maybe a head scan?'_  I think as I nod before we get into a car we may or may not have stolen. Technically Ritsu asked his parents before he took the car out tonight, but he didn't exactly say where he was going or how long he'd be gone. Not to mention we switched the license plates with another car about an hour ago. I guess it pays to be raised by a police officer.

"Wait, we need to get rid of the card," I say suddenly, remembering that Matsuda's bank card has a chip in it. "They might be able to track us with the chip."

Ritsu nods and then gets back out. I watch as he discreetly walks up to a trash can on the sidewalk and drops Matsuda's card in. It's a little unnerving just how good Ritsu is at this, but I'll chalk it up to watching too many movies.

"How are you so good at this?" I ask as he returns. Or not.

Ritsu shrugs as he starts the car. "I'm not, I'm just going by your example, which is to be calm and collected." He holds up his hand; it's shaking like a leaf. "You're much better at this than me."

I hold up mine and see only a slight tremor compared to his. Well, I guess he has a point.

"Grace under fire," he says with a grin as he pulls away from our parking spot and starts driving down the mostly empty street. "How long before he realizes the money's gone?"

I check my watch. It's 2 am now; Matsuda has an alert on his phone for his bank and has to be up in three hours. "Two minutes," I reply, knowing that Matsuda is a fairly light sleeper and the sound of his phone going off will likely wake him up. "But he probably won't make the connection for a few hours."

Ritsu nods. "Well, that should give us plenty of time." He glances at the rearview mirror. "Are you okay back there, Mr. Yagami?"

Light chuckles. "I'm fine, Ritsu. I'm just wondering where I went wrong with Noriko if she's able to steal a car, money, and drop out of school all in the same week."

I roll my eyes. "Do we really want to go there?"

"No, I suppose not," says Light good-naturedly as he puts his hand on my shoulder. "Honestly, I'm proud."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why? I just ruined my future."

"No, you ruined the future they wanted for you," he points out, and I grin. "You're choosing your own path, your own happiness. And if your happiness doesn't lie in being a detective or in law enforcement, then that's perfectly fine with me. Truthfully, I never wanted to be a detective, it was just something I was good at, and I liked the idea of helping others."

My grin widens marginally. That's essentially why I wanted to be a detective as well.

"What would you have been if you hadn't become a detective?" I ask curiously, turning around in my seat to get a better look.

Light shrugs. "A doctor maybe or a teacher." He smirks. "Probably a university professor. I loved university, and my professors seemed so knowledgeable. Plus they had access to hundreds of books on every subject imaginable, so that would've definitely been a perk."

I feel like my face is going to split in half from smiling so much. "I think being a professor would suit you, Dad. You'd probably be a law professor, but that's beside the point."

Light laughs and I decide I like the sound of it. "That sounds like something L would say." Something suddenly flashes in his eyes, not Kira but something sad; like he shouldn't have said those words and now he regrets it.

I reach out and put my hand on his knee. "Sorry."

He puts his hand on mine, his gaze sad when it meets mine. "It's fine."

"Who's L?" Ritsu asks as I sit forward again. "Was he a friend of your dad's?"

I glance at my father in the rearview mirror. The look on his face is distant and sorrowful, he remembers something or maybe someone, and there's something else in his gaze that makes my heart break for him. I look back at Ritsu, smiling softly. "Yeah, a good friend."

An easy silence follows my words, and I'm amazed that this is even happening. Three days ago, I was sitting on a rooftop, giving Ritsu a second chance and now I'm in a car with him, my father, driving to visit an aunt I never knew about until a few weeks ago. What's more, Ritsu and I have essentially run away from home, dropped out of school and decided to pursue the people threatening us. It all feels so surreal. And it was my idea.

* * *

" _So this is how Kira killed people?" Ritsu asked as he looked at the Death Note lying on the ground between us. "If you think about it, it makes sense."_

_I shrugged as I picked it up and flipped through the pages, noticing how blank it was for the first time; apparently, Kira hadn't been as diligent in writing names in the afterlife as he was while he was living. Or this wasn't his notebook. I glanced at the one hanging from his belt, confirming my suspicions. "How so?" I asked as I read the rules I already had memorized._

_Ritsu shrugged. "I guess because of what was known about Kira. That he needed a name and face, like an assassin but he didn't kill in conventional means like with a knife or gun. A notebook is about as unconventional as it gets."_

_I smirked. "You've given this a lot of thought, Ritsu."_

" _My mom was really into the case when she was going to school because it happened while she was in university," replied Ritsu, glancing over nervously at Kira. "She wrote several papers on it."_

" _I can't say I'm surprised, many people did," I said, recalling the paper I had been writing on L and all I found about Kira, not to mention the research I did on him after learning about my father; that seemed like an entirely different life now. "Although reading about him and knowing him are two completely different things." I glared at Kira. "He's much more of a pain in the ass than I thought."_

_Ritsu's eyes widened, apparently surprised that I would say something like that to a creature that could kill me so easily. I wasn't afraid; I knew he needed me for something, something more than he'd said._

" _So your friend Parisa Saito was holding this for you?" ventured Ritsu, bringing my attention back to the notebook in my hands._

_I nodded. "Yeah, I asked her to keep it safe for me when I realized it was too dangerous to keep at my house; lucky for me, she didn't think to open it. Matsuda was one of the original members of a team who investigated the Kira Case. I knew he'd recognize it right away and that nothing I said would make him believe that I wasn't using it."_

" _Why'd you ask for it back?" he continued, observing the notebook with some fear in his eyes._

" _Because I need it," I said, looking up at Ritsu who now looked terrified. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a lighter. I flicked the lighter on and held up the notebook, putting the flame right under the corner of the book._

" _Stop!" shouted Kira, sounding absolutely livid and just the tiniest bit afraid. "What are you doing?!"_

_I kept my expression neutral yet serious. If this was going to work, I needed him to understand that I wouldn't hesitate to burn the book, consequences be damned. "I know you know my father came to see me," I said sternly, eyes narrowed at him. "And I know you had something to do with it. Yes or no?"_

_Silenced followed and I held the lighter closer to the book._

" _Yes!" he admitted, his voice raising an octave. "Yes, I know he was there, and I did have something to do with it."_

" _Explain," I said flatly._

_Kira sighed heavily. "Light and I are two different consciousness sharing the same vessel. The majority of the time, I'm in control while he's . . . put back somewhere else."_

" _You're holding him, hostage," I nearly snarled, remembering at the last second to not betray my emotion. "I thought as much. I caught glimpses of another person in your eyes sometimes, and in your voice. Especially during my breakdown."_

" _Clever," he said, his bony jaw twitching up in a bare smirk. "And here I thought I had him tucked away. Are you satisfied, child? You have your answers, now put the lighter down."_

_Now I smirked. "You thought that's what all this was for? Oh Kira, how naïve you are without my father's guidance." I held the flame even closer, watching as it just licked the corner; not enough to catch but enough to drive the point home that it was in danger. "I want you to give control of your body to my father. I want him here, and I want you gone. Allow him to be free and tuck yourself into whatever corner you put him in. I don't want to deal with you anymore; I want him."_

_Ritsu's eyes widened. "Wait a minute; Light Yagami is alive?"_

" _In a sense," replied Kira, sounding irritated. "When he picked up the notebook out of bored curiosity, I was born from his consciousness. I represent Light's darkest desires, the darkness in his heart that he wishes to keep hidden from the world. I'm the one who took over the second he touched that book and exacted justice on the wicked while his true self cowered in a corner and mooned over a pathetic detective took weak and stupid to defeat me." He cackled. "I'll never forget how he screamed when he died when I held that detective in my arms. I wouldn't even let him say goodbye. It was truly delicious. I was able to stay in control for almost a decade after that."_

_Ritsu glared at Kira, obviously not afraid of him now that he knew I held something over the would-be god. It was a surprise to see his green eyes become dark and narrow, like a tempest over an angry sea._

" _No wonder you lost," I said bitterly, my eyes on Kira's face, watching his expression. "When you killed Light's detective, someone he clearly cared about, you killed something in him, something you needed. His will to live on. That's why you got sloppy, because without him to help you; you're nothing. You're not strong enough on your own. That's why you keep him hidden away in your shared mind. He's stronger than you, and you need to keep him held down. Otherwise, you wouldn't exist."_

_Kira's red eyes became slits. "You don't know anything, child. Light is weak and always has been. I'm the stronger of the two, I'm the superior being, and I will be the one that will control this body for eternity."_

" _If that were true, then you should have no problem getting rid of him," I said challengingly. "Do it; I dare you. Kill my father's consciousness. Use your Death Note. Prove to me that you're the stronger of the two. If you succeed, I'll use my Death Note and do whatever you want."_

_Kira looked at me with a somewhat skeptical light in his eyes and Ritsu seemed completely dumbstruck. I knew I was asking a great deal of him, especially after we skipped school and came to this park so I could tell him absolutely everything, but I needed him to trust me for just a little bit longer. If I was right, and I had a good feeling that I was, then this would end in my favor._

" _Deal," said Kira and then he closed his eyes._

_The next few minutes were tense. My arms shook from holding their position for so long, and I thought I was going to drop the notebook into the fire before this resolved. Ritsu, thankfully, helped me by taking the lighter from my hand and held it firmly under the notebook. I was glad he didn't touch the notebook; the moment I showed it to him and explained what it was he looked absolutely disgusted by it. That was a relief; I was a little worried that he'd want to use it. Instead, I think he wanted me to destroy it._

" _He's going to be pissed at you if Light doesn't win," said Ritsu quietly, his eyes on the unmoving shinigami. "He might even kill you."_

_I shook my head. "No, I highly doubt that. He needs me for some sort of plan. His moves have been calculated; he's not taking any unnecessary risks. He's been trying to manipulate me to use the notebook from the start, and I've been manipulating him in order not to use it." I smiled reassuringly at him. "I never planned on using the book, ever. I don't see the world the same way he does, even if I agree with the idea that there are people whose death would make the world a safer place. The world is flawed and will always be, just like people are flawed and always will be."_

_Ritsu noticeably relaxed then. "Thank god. I didn't want to have to deal with losing you after just getting you back."_

_I blushed. "You still shouldn't be with me."_

_He took my free hand in his. "Maybe, but after everything you've told me, I'd be a complete idiot not to stay by your side."_

" _It's a little early to be talking about the future, isn't it Ritsu?" asked a voice and I nearly dropped the notebook in surprise._

_I looked over and to my immense relief, Light, my dad, was standing where Kira once stood. I stood up and rushed over to him, throwing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him as tightly as I could. It didn't matter to me that he was cold and looked like a corpse because unlike before, I could now see the bullet holes in his body. All that mattered was he was here. He had won._

" _Dad!" I cried into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me in a nearly crushing embrace. "I knew you'd win."_

_We pulled away, and I looked up into a face that I so closely resembled. He was smiling at me, tears in his eyes and he looked so . . . Alive!_

" _That was a risky bet, Noriko," he chided gently as he pulled me into another hug. "How were you so sure that he wouldn't win?"_

" _Because that night, when you came, I could tell how much it meant to you to be there with me," I explained as tears slid down my cheeks. "You loved me so much, and I knew that Kira didn't feel anything like that for anything. Then when I deduced that he needed you in order to survive, I knew you had a stronger reason to keep going than he did, that's why he was still able to draw life from you."_

_Light chuckled and kissed the top of my head, which was rather impressive since my forehead came up to his nose. "Brilliant work, Noriko," he said proudly. "You've done your family proud."_

_I grinned up at him. "I'm glad. That's all I've ever wanted to do."_

" _You've done that since the day you were born," he said softly, his eyes glazed over completely with tears and the veil of memories._

_Ritsu coughed nervously behind us. "Sorry to interrupt," he said bashfully, trying to look Light in the eye but failing. "I just . . . wanted to introduce myself properly." He held out his right hand to my father. "I'm Ritsu Saga . . . Noriko's friend."_

_Light looked at his hand and then at him, scrutinizing both before he reluctantly released me and went over to shake Ritsu's hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ritsu," he said calmly, but I could tell by the calculating way he was observing Ritsu he was trying to determine how much of a threat he posed. I couldn't blame him, Ritsu betrayed me once after all. "I hope you aren't too overwhelmed by everything Noriko's told you."_

" _A little but I'm managing," he admitted, glancing at me. "I honestly didn't think this could get any more complicated . . . then I spoke with Nori and found out that yes, yes it can."_

_Light chuckled warmly, and I relaxed. "I'm sorry about that. If it makes you feel any better, you're far more accepting of the situation than some of the greatest police officers I ever knew." He grinned a little. "Most of them fell over when they saw a shinigami for the first time. You didn't even flinch."_

" _Noriko warned me what to expect before she let me touch it," explained Ritsu, smiling timidly at Light as they dropped hands. "In fact, she told me everything after she broke into Parisa's locker and took the notebook from her." His smile widened. "I'm glad she trusts me that much."_

_Light's expression turned grave. "You should be, and I shouldn't have to say what'll happen to you if you decide to tell anyone about anything you've seen or heard here today. Clear?"_

" _Crystal," replied Ritsu, swallowing hard._

_I then stepped between the pair, eyeing them both, but especially Light. "If you're done intimidating him, I think we should discuss our next move," I said calmly, and the two of them nodded before we sat down on the ground, the notebook between the three of us._

" _What do we do now?" asked Ritsu cautiously, glancing around at our surroundings. We might have been secluded in these trees, but that didn't mean someone couldn't stumble upon our location at any moment._

_I looked at the book and then at the two of them. "I think I need to leave," I said flatly, surprising them both. "Too much has happened recently that Near wouldn't have been informed and he probably knows that I know all about his little plan to control my life. If that's the case, then he's probably going to try and make contact, which I can't have happen."_

_Light raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to find out about the people who did this to you?"_

" _I do, but I don't want to do it on their terms," I replied with a sly grin, and he smirked. "Besides, it might be best if I laid low for a while and let things calm down for a bit."_

_Ritsu snorted. "I hate to tell you, Nori, but if you disappeared they'd probably rip the entire country apart looking for you."_

" _And that's why I'm not going to get caught," I said confidently, and Light snickered. "Well, at least not right away. I've already thought it through. I'm going to run away and find my aunt; she's at a mental institution in some remote village. My adoptive parents don't know I know that much about my family, they may know some of what I know but not everything. They probably think I only know the name but not a location. I knew she was in an institution, but I couldn't find the name in any of the paperwork, so I obtained it through the bank her trust is located at."_

_Light looked impressed. "You tracked the purchases made by the trust and found out who and where the person was, correct?"_

_I nodded. "That's exactly how I did it. I wanted to know where Sayu was because I planned on visiting her, this plan just hurries that up a little more."_

_Ritsu frowned. "I don't like the idea of you going alone. I know you'll have . . . your dad, but what good is he if they catch you? They're probably prepared for a shinigami being with you—sorry, sir, I know you're not like him—and won't hesitate to burn the book once they have you. That would break whatever bond you have with him, and he wouldn't be able to help you."_

" _He has a point," said Light thoughtfully, almost looking impressed with Ritsu's reasoning. "Why don't you go with her then, Ritsu? You're already aware of the situation, you know about the book and me, and you know what'll happen if you talk. As far as I'm concerned, you're the perfect person to make sure she's safe."_

_Ritsu blushed deeply averting his gaze entirely as my father physically bit back an amused smile. I shook my head at both of them._

" _Admittedly, it's not the worst idea in the world," I said with a shrug. "The only problem is school. I plan on dropping out." I paused and let out a long sigh. "Have planned on doing that for a while, really. Anyway, unless Ritsu plans on following my bad example and—"_

" _I'll do it," he interrupted sternly._

_Light and I both looked at him in shock._

" _Ritsu, that's sweet of you but—" I started, only to be interrupted again,_

" _Noriko, you just revealed every secret you have, and you still think I'm not going to stick around to help?"_

_I shrugged hesitantly. "Sorry, I'm not really used to trusting people anymore."_

_Ritsu smiled a little. "That's fair, sorry. Anyway, of course, I'm going to go with you." His eyes dart to my hand and then at Light. I tried not to smile. This was just too cute. "What kind of person would I be if I left you now?"_

_I smiled and blushed at little as he smiled nervously at me._

_Light cleared his throat audibly. "If you two are finished, we still need to work out the finer details of your plan."_

_We looked away from each other, still blushing._

" _Uh, right," I said nervously, catching Ritsu's eye one more time before I presented my plan._


	18. Cracks

"How the hell could you let her escape, Matsuda?!" rages Rester, his blue eyes like fire and full of anger. "You're supposed to be watching her!"

I glare at him, barely able to keep my temper in check. "That's rich coming from you, Rester. Weren't you supposed to be watching Ritsu Saga?"

He looks like he's going to strangle me. "Unlike you, I had a legitimate reason to be away from my responsibility."

I roll my eyes. "Meeting Lidner in a hotel room is not a legitimate reason."

"Why you—"

"Enough," says Near flatly, his voice raised only slightly. "Arguing amongst ourselves isn't going to solve anything." His grey eyes narrow at us. "You sound like a couple of children."

"I apologize, L," says Rester, still glaring at me but now that Near's tugged on his leash, he's backing down. "I just feel partly responsible for what's happened."

"You are," says Near in a deadpan voice and Rester noticeably winces. "You were supposed to keep an eye on Ritsu Saga, and you failed. Just as Matsuda and Penber were supposed to keep an eye on the subject and they failed." He stacks two tarot cards on top of a wooden tower. "I'm surrounded by failure."

Raku glances up at me from her chair, her lips pursed into a thin line. "How far are you into the investigation, L?"

"Not as far as I'd like to be," replies Near and I'm a little caught off guard by his honesty. "We know that the subject and Ritsu Saga dropped out of school yesterday and now they're gone without a trace." He stacks another pair of cards. "It's almost impressive that a child such as she is capable to such a feat." Another pair. "Matsuda, how much money is missing from your account?"

"Two thousand," I reply with a shrug. It's enough for gas, food, and hotel rooms. If she's paying in cash, it's virtually untraceable. Those purchases can only be traced by tracking the individual serial numbers on the bills but nowadays, they aren't registered as frequently, so it would be like chasing two thousand leads.

Near doesn't even look at me. "Do you know which ATM she used?"

"Yes," replies Raku with a nod. "We've already been there and found Touta's bank card in a trash can."

"So she figured she could be traced with it if she took it, clever," says Near, his gaze focused on the tower in front of him. "What about her other accounts? Have they been touched?"

I shake my head. "No, we've already checked. The balance in each one hasn't changed."

Near nods absentmindedly as he puts his robot toys around the tower's base. "So either she figures she won't need that much money or she plans on obtaining more at a later date. What else was missing from your house?"

"Some of her clothes, her satchel, and toiletries," I reply, managing not to sigh. "Mei and Yoshito Saga said the same thing, except that their car is missing as well. I contacted Aizawa, and we have a BOLO out for the car."

"They divided up the labor," comments Near as he twirls a piece of hair around his finger. "Ritsu Saga was responsible for the transportation, and she was responsible for funding the trip. She likely knew we were watching the Sagas' bank accounts and thought we could trace the money if it left. She's not wrong, we can, unlike the money in Matsuda's account."

"A lot of good that does us," sneers Rester, glaring at me again. "Unless we get a hit on the car or they use a credit card or a phone, we can't track them." He clenches his fists. "Why didn't you see this coming, Matsuda? She lives with you; surely you knew she was planning something like this?!"

I let his tone roll off my shoulders. I may be in the wrong but so is he and he's just trying to put all the blame on me, which won't win him any points with Near and certainly not with Raku, his superior. "She may live with us, but she's kept to herself for weeks now, hardly talking to any of us except for Koji, and that's only a few words a day if that."

"I think we can all agree that the girl's good," says Lidner, leaning effortlessly against the large computer consoles that take up almost half of the wall in this room. It used to be where Light and L worked on the Kira Case. She's in Light's spot. "She knew paper money is untraceable except in certain circumstances, she didn't take anything that could be traced, and I would bet money on the fact she switched the license plates on Saga's car. Unless she did something really stupid, we aren't going to find her for a while and that's probably what she wants."

Gevanni smirks. He's sitting beside her in L's spot. "She's even better than we are, and we're the professionals at effortlessly disappearing."

Rester grinds his teeth. "I thought you said you had things under control, Matsuda!"

"He did," snaps Raku firmly and Rester backs down again. "We believed that things were returning to normal, she came out of her room and returned to school, she was even attending cram school again. Things were normalizing, and then this happened."

I highly doubt things were normalizing. This plan is too well thought out to just be a spur of the moment decision. Noriko's been planning this, she knew all the right moves to make, and she made them flawlessly. If I weren't so angry with her, I'd be impressed.

"As it stands, there's very little we can do," says Near, still twisting the hair around his finger.

I watch as his eyes slide just a hint to his left. I look over there and see nothing of significance, but that makes me all the more suspicious. He does that every so often and has for years; he'll look over his shoulder or to his side like he's expecting someone or something to be standing there. Initially, I thought it was because he missed Roger, the man who became Watari for a few years before dying of heart failure, but now that I'm sure he's been using a Death Note, I wonder if it's a  _shinigami_  he's expecting to see.

"It would probably be best to sit and wait for the moment," he continues, the piece of hair now so tight around his fingertip that it's turning purple. It looks strange against his white hair and pale skin. "She isn't a professional criminal, and neither is Ritsu Saga. They're kids, and they're bound to make a mistake sooner or later. We'll do what we can, but it would be to our benefit to just wait to see what they do. Ritsu Saga's loyalty to his family might be the key to this." He looks at Lidner. "Call the Sagas and ask them to hold a press conference, begging Ritsu to come home. Make sure it's on in time for the evening news and make sure the news stations know to play it every hour for the next several days."

Linder nods as she stands up. "Of course. Should I speak to Sakura TV and NHN as well?"

Near shakes his head. "No, their close ties to Kira are a problem. Make sure they stay away from this story."

"Understood," says Lidner with a firm nod. "Should we have Penber and Matsuda hold a press conference as well? Perhaps with Koji?"

"Yes," he says, looking at us. "Would you be adverse to the idea? It may help if she sees Koji."

I look at Raku, and she looks at me. Aside from the fact it would look strange if only one set of concerned parents held a press conference begging for their child to come home, Koji has been almost despondent since we realized Noriko ran away. This might be just what he needs to come back from the brink.

"We'll do it, but it should be joint," I say firmly. "We need to show the kids we're a united front in this and that we want them both to return home. I'm sure Mei and Yoshito will agree with that."

Raku nods. "I agree with Touta. Lidner, when you reach out to Mei, bring up the suggestion of a joint press conference. Emphasize that it'll bring more awareness to the case."

"You know, this technically isn't a case," I interject evenly, watching as all eyes turn to rest on me. "Legally, they can disappear without a trace, and no one will bat an eye, given their ages. The only reason we're making noise about this is that I'm worried about her and you can't stand the thought of losing."

Near and I stare at each other. Neither one of us even blinks during the exchange. If someone dropped a pin in the basement, we probably could've heard it all the way up here. It's almost as if time is standing still, waiting for the signal to continue.

He looks away first. "We should focus on possible locations they may be headed. Raku, please compile a list of places where the subject is most likely to go and ask Mei Saga to do the same. Perhaps if we could predict their location, we may be able to intercept. You're dismissed."

Lidner, Rester, and Gevanni all head for the stairs that lead to the floor above, where they're staying and working for the time being, according to Raku. It's strange to see them here at all, in the building where the original Task Force worked to stop Kira. It's strange to even be back. In the number of times Near and this group has been in Japan, not once have they stayed here. Usually, they're in a hotel room somewhere far away from this region, something I preferred because it lowered my chances of being found out. Aizawa doesn't know about the deal I've made with Near, and right now, he doesn't even know that Raku works for him, and it's looking more and more like I'll have to tell him.

I discreetly look over my shoulder and watch Near. He's still sitting by his tower of wood and cards with his small army of robots. It's hard to believe that this child is actually in his mid-thirties. And it's not just because of his hobbies. I watch his eyes, and they're back to looking to his left. Just as Raku slips through the door, I hear the rustling of feathers, and my heart leaps into my throat; I know that sound, I remember hearing that sound for months almost twenty years ago. I make no outward indication that I heard anything and follow my wife, closing the door enough that it catches the lock and seems closed. I then push it open slowly, listening for any sounds that might give me away, and adjust the door enough that it's open a crack the width of my finger.

"What are you doing?" hisses Raku and I wave her off. I know it's not enough to deter her and I'm hardly surprised when she slips beneath me, pressing her face against the crack in the door as well.

"Wow, you really screwed up, Near," cackles a familiar scratchy voice and I nearly collapse from shock. "Light's little girl got out of your trap."

"Yes, it would seem she has, Ryuk," says Near and the smallest gasp escapes my lips.

I watch as the  _shinigami_  from so long ago comes into view, looking a little different from the last time I saw him but not much; the biggest difference is the poncho he's wearing.

"Ryuk, what are the chances that Kira has made contact with her?" asks Near as he methodically knocks down his tower. I can see the anger in his movements.

"Impossible," replies Ryuk and I see his shoulder go up in a shrug. It's difficult to see him entirely when only half of him is visible in this crack. "The rules for new  _shinigami_  are clear. They have to stay in our realm for a century before they can go to the human world. It's been that way for as long as I can remember." He then shakes his head. "Crap, I'm starting to sound like Rem."

Near ignores him as he continues to deconstruct his tower. "So it's unlikely that Kira is assisting Noriko in evading me?"

"'Fraid so," replies Ryuk with a wide smile, not sounding the least bit sorry. "Although this does seem like some kind of plan he would cook up, doesn't it? Well, Light more than Kira. Her plan's subtle and Kira is anything but. He would've told her to get herself kidnapped or something like that, not just sneak away in the dead of night."

"You're awfully chatty today, Ryuk," says Near, ignoring his words once again. "Any particular reason?"

"Things are getting interesting again," says Ryuk, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "I'm not saying watching you build up your reputation as L wasn't fun but this reminds me of the good ol' days. When Light was around and trying to outthink L." He laughs again. "Admit it; she got you good, Near. Now, how do you plan on finding her?"

"I'm going to do just as I advised my men," he replies coldly. "We'll just have to wait and see."

I move my hand away from the door after that, and it closes softly. I can barely believe what I just saw, not to mention heard! That settles it; Near has definitely been using a Death Note.

"Touta, what did you see?" asks Raku quietly, now standing back up; I'm still pressed against the door in shock. "All I saw was Near talking to himself."

I slowly stand back up, hands shaking and weak in the knees. I turn to look at her and her eyes widen. I must look terrified. "If I tell you, you won't believe me."

* * *

Of all the people to finally pose a challenge to Near, it's Light's daughter, how absolutely brilliant. I can't think of a worthier candidate to try and bring this brat down a peg. Don't get me wrong, the guy's provided years of entertainment, and has some interesting ways of operating, but he's nothing compared to Light. To Near, it's like a mission, something he has to do if he's going to succeed. To Light or rather Kira, it was a game and an agenda, something he did because he wanted to and because he enjoyed it. Personally, I enjoyed his take on using the notebook more.

I will admit though, Near's switch was pretty flawless. I knew what he was doing, of course. We'd spoken about it at length in the days leading up to his confrontation with Light, which was pretty boring but I was looking forward to the look on Light's face when he realized what happened. Too bad that never happened. Yeah, that is too bad.

I played my part well that day, pretending that I'd never met or seen Near before, casually introducing myself and explaining the basics of the notebook. Then all hell broke loose, and Matsuda shot Light; that certainly wasn't part of the plan, but it allowed me the chance to slip out unnoticed. I thought Light might pull through; he always had a plan so surely he knew what to do in that situation, but then I saw the numbers above his head start to decline. He was dying. He was going to die. There was no way to deny that fact. There would be no coming back from that. So as a courtesy and as a gesture of my gratitude, I wrote his name in my book, allowing him a quiet and relatively painless death compared to simply bleeding out. I wonder if he knew that's why I killed him? He probably thought, if he was even aware that is, that I did it to fulfill the promise between a human and shinigami. That's fine. I'm okay with him not knowing. He probably didn't see me as anything more than a tool to be used and disposed of anyway, like he saw Mikami, and Takada, and Misa.

Misa. Just thinking about her makes something, something long dead and forgotten, ache in my chest. She was Near's first official victim. Helluva choice, to be honest. Should've seen it coming, but it was still a little surprising. I thought he'd have the decency to leave her alone, to let her live quietly and without the memories of the Death Note. I guess that's what humans call naivety. And hindsight must mean looking back and understanding that something was a bad idea when at the time it didn't seem so terrible.

Near's come a long way since then. He at least tries to be L now, instead of just relying on the Death Note. I think it has to do with age; he's much calmer now than he was when he was a kid, but just as much of a hypocrite. Oh sure he tries to justify his use of the Death Note by saying that he's getting criminals that the law can't touch, but as I pointed out once and only once, L isn't the law and no criminal is safe from him. I really regret ever saying that.

I was never really interested in any of Near's cases. Most of them were just boring serial killers or embezzlers or traffickers, no one that could pose a challenge to the mantle of L. That's why I watched Noriko with such interest. I wanted to see how she developed, what made her tick, what kind of person she would be like. I thought she would be just like Light; she was so much like him from a young age, hell she even looked like a female version of him. I know Near hoped for and predicted the same, that's why he made it his mission in life to dissect her from the inside out and see if he could put together another Kira.

I'll admit it; I was hoping she would be like Kira. I was getting bored again and hoped that she would prove to be entertaining and that Near would be too stupid to stop it. I wanted another Light and L, I wanted that cat and mouse game, but what I have is almost much better. Noriko is nothing like Kira or Light, and I didn't realize how exciting that would be. She improvises much more than Light or Near or L ever did; this little runaway plot might have been thought through, but she didn't plan on doing this weeks ago. This wasn't her end goal; this is just something she thought of to get away from her situation. If this were Light, he'd have built an entire plan around it with escape being the end goal and everything in between being part of his plan. I like it. I like the unpredictability she presents, the guessing game she's playing with Near. It's so unlike Light and so very intriguing.

I watch as Near dismantles his tower. His movements are precise, but I can see the anger and frustration behind each gesture. While I admire Noriko's improvisation, he despises it. He can adapt but not unless he has contingency plans in place. It's obvious to anyone that he didn't expect Noriko to wise up and run away. Maybe she knew this, or maybe she knew she had no other option. Either way, she screwed him over pretty well.

Still, I am a little curious as to how this went off so well. Did she plan this entire thing without anyone knowing? Really? Some part of me doubts that she was able to so flawlessly execute this plan. Maybe she did have help. Maybe he is helping her. Oh crap. It might be in my best interest to go back home for a little while and find out how Kira's doing. Just to ease my mind.

I'll eat a crate full of bad apples if he's actually there.


	19. Lines

" _Aizawa,_ " says Aizawa after he picks up. It's late, incredibly late, and I'm hardly surprised that he's awake. None of us on the Task Force get much sleep these days.

"It's Matsuda," I say softly, keeping my voice low. Raku's asleep upstairs and Koji is passed out on the couch in my office. I'm sitting at my desk, my computer on once again.

" _What's wrong?_ " he asks, and I hear him grunt under his breath. He was probably sleeping at his desk again. " _Did you find Noriko?_ "

"No," I say, my heart heavy. I have a feeling we aren't going to find Noriko, not unless she wants to be found. "Anyway, that's not why I called. I need to ask you a favor."

" _Sure, what do you need?_ " asks Aizawa, sounding exhausted. Currently, we're in the middle of at least six different investigations, and Aizawa is responsible for overseeing all of them; I'm just glad the one I was working on before, with the money launderer, was solved relatively quickly when the guy's wife came in and confessed. I sigh, remembering that I asked Noriko for her help and then never got to follow through with it. Maybe if we had, things might be a little different.

"I need all of the files on every case we've solved with L," I reply sternly. "And I don't mean just the reports, I mean everything. Evidence, witness statements, everything."

It's quiet on the other end, and I wonder if he's hung up. Finally, I hear him sigh.

" _What's this about, Matsuda?_ " he asks in a tone that reminds me of the Chief's whenever he needed answers. Hearing it almost makes me smile. " _What's going on?_ "

I let out a shaky breath. "It would be easier to tell you in person."

Aizawa sighs heavily. " _Why do I have a feeling I won't like what you have to say?_ "

"Because you never do," I reply with a slight grin. "Anyway, where are you? Maybe we could meet up somewhere."

" _I'm in my office,_ " Aizawa replies, saying exactly what I knew he would. The last few years he's practically moved into his office, which probably explains why he and Eriko are separated. " _Be over in twenty. I'll have coffee waiting._ "

I smile a little. "Thanks, I'll be over soon."

We hang up, and I sink back into my chair. I knew this day would eventually come. I've gone almost twenty years without telling Aizawa or anyone from the Task Force about Noriko or Near or any of that. Now, because I have no choice, I have to tell. I can only imagine how angry Aizawa is going to be, he'll probably hit me and demand my badge. I won't blame him when he does, I have been pretty stupid, thinking I could trust Near even though I'd always been suspicious of him, to begin with. He's no L and never will be. Light was more L than he is, and he was Kira at the same time. Well, considering what I now know about Near, he might be playing the role of Kira, which makes me wonder why he wanted or was hoping that Noriko would develop into another one. Was he hoping for a glorious battle like L and Light? Did he want to throw suspicion off of himself? What was he hoping to gain?

I run a hand through my thinning and greying hair. I wish I could speak to Light, the real Light and not Kira. He would know what Near is really trying to accomplish. It would be only a matter of listening to the evidence and Light would probably have four theories and a method to prove each one. I miss that. I miss him. But it's hard to remember him without remembering Kira; I know they were different people, our search for the Yotsuba Kira proved that, but it's still hard to separate them in my mind. I see Light, I see Kira. I see Kira, I see Light. I see Noriko, and I see Light.

Noriko Matsuda. Noriko Yagami. Two different people inhabiting the same space, attempting to lead the same life. My Noriko, the one I raised, was kind and sweet. She was smart and confident. Noriko Yagami, this girl she's become, is calculated and cunning. She's intelligent and broken. My Noriko would've never thought of running away. This Noriko didn't hesitate. My Noriko wouldn't have broken down. This Noriko fell completely apart. My Noriko died the day she found out the truth, and this Noriko took her place. I'll never get my Noriko back; she's been lost to me forever.

I wipe my eyes as tears gather at the corners. I've been trying to deny it for days, weeks even, but I know the truth. My Noriko, my little girl, no longer exists. I'm chasing a ghost, a memory. That's why I know she's not coming home. This isn't her home. We aren't her family. She still desperately loves Koji but not enough to come back. That's why the press conference won't move her the same way it would've six months ago. She'll see it, she'll feel sad, and then move on. I wish it weren't true, but it is. It's hopeless.

* * *

When I arrive at Aizawa's office, the door's already open, and a light's on inside. I step in and see him sitting at his desk, a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. I smile to myself. Despite advances in technology, Aizawa stubbornly refuses to read the news online. I don't mind either one, but reading a physical paper reminds me of the Chief, so I do it on days I miss him.

"Anything interesting?" I ask as I sit down across from him, and he doesn't even jump.

Aizawa shrugs as he takes a sip of his coffee. "More murders. More suicides. More deaths by police officers." He sighs heavily and sets both his cup and the paper down. "I feel like they're all connected but I can't . . . I can't put my finger on it. Every lead we've tracked down just comes up empty."

He's right. There has been a steady increase in deaths these last ten years, and we've yet to figure out if they're related or coincidental. Near doesn't care enough to investigate, much like when we had a copycat Kira; he wasn't interested in someone killing people who wanted to die or were nearing death anyway. Not enough bloodlust for his liking, apparently. These murders and suicides have been sitting on the back burner for years, and we're no closer to solving one than we were back then.

"We'll figure it out eventually," I say encouragingly and he merely nods as he faces me. His face is lined with exhaustion, and he looks ten years older than he actually is.

"What's going on, Matsuda?" he asks firmly, eyeing me carefully. "Why do you suddenly need access to that information?"

I take a deep breath, steadying myself for the inevitable confrontation. "I have reason to believe L's been solving his crimes using a Death Note."

Aizawa's eyes widen for a moment before narrowing. "I'm surprised you're still on this theory, Matsuda, considering it's been years since we've worked with L."

"Well, that's not exactly the case for me," I say slowly, watching as his shoulders tense up as the air around us shifts to something unpleasant. "I've been seeing him at least four times a year for the last seventeen years."

"Because of Noriko," he says flatly, and it's my turn to be surprised. "Don't give me that look, Matsuda. I've known there's something up with her from the moment you announced you were having a baby. Raku didn't look the least bit pregnant whenever I saw her, even though she tried to make herself look like it. Plus she didn't seem even remotely happy at the prospect of being a parent, and you were incredibly jumpy and evasive whenever we brought up the subject." He leans back in his chair. "So where did Noriko come from?"

I feel a little relieved that Aizawa's knows that much already. Now for the tricky part. "She's . . . She's Light and Misa's daughter," I reply quietly.

Aizawa nearly falls out of his chair. He's staring at me in utter disbelief, and I can't blame him. That was probably the last thing he expected me to say. We stare at each other in silence for almost five minutes before he collects himself enough to clear his throat.

"How?" he asks flatly.

"Near," I reply sternly. "He arranged everything. I don't know how but I have a feeling Misa didn't comply willingly."

Aizawa nods, his eyes are distant. "You're right. She loved Light far too much. What made you suspicious?"

"I think I've always been skeptical," I say with a shrug. "After I told Misa about Light, she told me she never wanted to speak to me again, and I believed her. The look on her face was just . . . pure hatred." I shudder a little. "Then, a few months later, she shows up at my house and asks me to adopt her baby. I thought it was strange, and so did Raku. Raku reached out to Near—she actually works for him—and we discussed the situation between the three of us. He convinced us to accept her offer, and gave us several stipulations we needed to agree to for him to make the adoption possible."

"So Near facilitated the adoption of Light's child and you didn't find anything strange about that," Aizawa sums up, his eyebrow arched pointedly. "Wasn't that just a little bit irresponsible, Matsuda?"

I chuckle nervously. "In hindsight, yeah, but at the time I just thought I was helping Misa out. I wanted to make . . . To make amends and I thought this was the chance. I thought maybe if I took her baby, she'd get better."

Aizawa seems skeptical. "Are you sure that's why you did it? Are you sure you didn't do it because of the Chief?"

Damn. He knows me too well. "That . . . may have been a factor," I admit, looking down at my lap. "Honestly, I don't remember why I did it anymore. I just know that if I had the chance, I'd go back and prevent it because . . . because Near's done something horrible."

My friend and boss sits up straighter in his chair. "What did he do, Matsuda?"

"It's really complicated," I reply with a long sigh. "I don't even know the extent of it myself, but do you remember me mentioning that Noriko had been attacked by a girl during her tennis tournament?"

He nods, his face grave. I can only imagine what he's thinking.

"Well, that wasn't the case at all," I say sheepishly. "What actually happened was Noriko attacked the girl and then Near paid everyone involved off if they agreed to the other story, about how Noriko was attacked."

Aizawa's eyes are as wide as plates. "I shouldn't really be surprised, this is Near we're talking about, but why would he go to such lengths to protect one girl?"

"He's not really protecting her so much as he's hoping she'll develop into another Kira, at least that's my theory," I say quickly, noting how irritated he's becoming. "She isn't, she's the furthest thing from Light, but he's still hoping, and I think he's trying to find some way to make her Kira. He's always interested in stuff that provokes her and what her responses are. Additionally, he doesn't want anything getting in the way of her success in certain areas, like school and tennis."

"How much of her life is he messing with?" asks Aizawa evenly, his sharp gaze on me.

I shrug. "I'm not sure. I know he's kept her out of trouble with schools; that's why we were able to move her to so many schools without people asking too many questions. I know he's keeping her out of prison right now because of the assault. I don't know what else he's influencing."

Aizawa regards me carefully. "I'm disappointed that you didn't come to me with this right away. I thought we trusted each other more than that, Matsuda."

I hang my head in shame. "We do, but I was told that if I did, Noriko would lose Near's protection. I didn't know what that meant at the time, but now I realize it was just a hollow threat. Noriko was never going to be safe with him, part of me always knew that which is why I never gave him parental rights, even though he asked and damn near ordered us to do so."

I look up and see Aizawa frowning sharply.

"If what you're telling me is true, then you're right, Noriko would've never been safe," he says coolly. "In fact, if she's aware of her situation, then she's probably safer wherever she is than if she was here."

I nod. "That was my thinking too. I've been trying to figure out why Noriko left and I think this is why. I think she found out about Near and is trying to escape." I clench my hand into a fist. "I just wish she'd told me. I could've helped her."

"Matsuda, if she knew, then she probably thought she couldn't trust you," explains Aizawa calmly. "In her position, would you trust anyone?"

"No," I admit glumly. "But that's the thing, the boy she ran away with had been paid off by Near as well. If she knew and she knew he was in on it, why did she leave with him?"

Aizawa sits back in his chair, rocking slightly back and forth. "What are the boy's feelings for her?"

"His mother said he had a crush on her," I reply, remembering my first phone conversation with Mei Saga. "To the best of my knowledge, I don't think Noriko even knew he existed until recently."

"That's possible," says Aizawa thoughtfully. "You've met him, correct? What's he like? Does he seem honorable and trustworthy?"

"The picture boy for a perfect gentleman," I agree with a nod. "I could tell in the first ten seconds of meeting him."

He hums. "Then do you think it's possible that he decided not to go along with Near's plan to lie to Noriko and cover up the assault?" He sits forward, arms on his desk and eyes on me. "And if that's true, do you think he told Noriko that? Perhaps he did, and that's why she trusts him. He owned up to the truth and told her rather than agreeing to continue the charade."

My eyes widen. I never even considered that. I was thinking that she might not have known and asked him to go because she's interested in him. I feel stupid now. "If that's true . . . then she really does know." I slump in my chair. "Damn it, then she really won't come home."

"I'm sorry, Matsuda," he says sincerely. "I know you love her."

"I sometimes wonder if I do," I say dryly. "She was never mine, she was always going to be his and I . . . I always felt like I was raising her on borrowed time; like at any moment, Light would swoop in and take her from me. I know that's impossible, but that's how I felt."

Aizawa gives me sympathetic look. "You loved her enough to raise her to the best of your abilities, and that's more than some would even do for her. I know I wouldn't have been able to love her in any capacity." He sighs heavily. "I thought it was some kind of sick joke that she grew up to look like him; I thought the universe was being cruel to you by giving you a child that looked like him. I thought maybe she was Light reincarnated. Now that I know, it doesn't make it any better, and it doesn't make me like her anymore. I'll still look at her and see him staring back."

"You should see her now," I say quietly, and he raises an eyebrow. "She got her hair cut just like his. I nearly went for my gun when I saw her after she got it cut. She's even wearing his watch."

"I guess Light did come swooping in," he sighs, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry, Matsuda, this has been completely unfair to you."

I shrug. "It's fine. Right now, my only focus is bringing down Near before he can do anything to Noriko." My hands start to shake as I meet Aizawa's gaze. "I'm scared he's going to use the notebook to kill her."

Aizawa looks at me critically. "And what makes you so sure he even has one?"

I look him straight in the eye. "Because I heard him talking to Ryuk."

* * *

Damn that girl. Damn her. Damn her. Damn her! She's made an absolute fool of me. I had this situation well in hand, she was going to win the tennis tournament and start at To-Oh next year. It was all planned out. Now, not only has she quit school and run away, but she left the tennis team weeks ago! Damn it. All the time and energy and resources I have poured into this case are for nothing now. How could she do this to me?

I stare at the towers in my room, constructed from different materials but all the same height and dimensions. They look back at me, mocking my failure. I can consistently build structures like these without any problems or delays, but I can't maintain control over one person. I did for almost twenty years, and then in just a few days, that control's been ripped away from me entirely.

What is she trying to accomplish? What does she know? Why that boy? Has he betrayed me? Well, I can't exactly call it loyalty when I'm bribing him and his family. I grit my teeth. Ritsu Saga. He wasn't part of the plan. He wasn't anywhere near the plan until he started interacting with her. It's possible that his sudden appearance is the catalyst for all of these events, that's he's the one responsible for derailing my carefully laid out plans.

I knock down the nearest tower, made out of origami cranes. I watch coldly as the paper beasts spill onto the ground. I remember when I built it. I just started officially as L, taking away Light's usurped position and using the first L's legacy to right the wrongs of the world. It was during this first year that Noriko was born. I believe I chose paper cranes to honor her heritage, and because that year had been unusual, so the tower needed to be extraordinary. I made over five thousand cranes, each one about an inch tall and an inch wide. In each thousandth, I wrote a small wish. They were childish and naïve. Now my wishes would be for competent underlings.

How do they lose one teenager, let alone two? It shouldn't have happened. I had eyes and ears all over that school, at that restaurant, even on the streets. How did this go unnoticed by everyone? I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, opening the email from the principal. All it says is she turned in her form to drop out of school along with a male student whom I later found out, from a frantic call Matsuda received, was Ritsu Saga. Apparently, Mei didn't know her son had planned on leaving school and was asking Matsuda for help in tracking him down.

I glare that screen, at the mocking words from the fool I thought would be capable of handling the task of watching a teenage girl. He explains that he didn't stop her because it's her right to decide the fate of her education, that at fifteen any child in Japan can exit the education system of their own free will and blah, blah, blah. Excuses. That's all it is. Just excuses. He didn't want to be bothered anymore. It seems the money I gave him wasn't enough to keep him in line. I make a note to cancel all future funding for the academy.

I knock over another tower. This one is made of blocks. Dull, uninteresting, ordinary blocks. Like that year had been.

I knock over another three towers. Wooden blocks. Ceramic blocks. Colored blocks. They all come tumbling down.

The next tower is black and silver, made of paper-mâché hospital masks. Not my best work but it is indeed creative and beautiful in a macabre fashion. This was the year Noriko nearly died of pneumonia. I'm sure Raku would've left her to die; it was finally a means of escaping the hell of raising her family's killer's daughter. If Matsuda hadn't intervened, I'm sure that's what would've happened. I don't blame her. It was a difficult task, and certainly not one I was sure she could endure. I knew she'd be tempted. It was inevitable. That's why Matsuda was the perfect candidate to be the second parent. He wasn't going to let an innocent die, especially the grandchild of his beloved chief.

When I first found out about Noriko and persuaded Misa to give her up, Raku was my first and only choice. I trust her beyond doubt, I know she's efficient and won't get too emotionally involved. That can be counterproductive as it means she has no empathy towards her enemies and will not do something that might give them an edge. That's where Matsuda came in. I knew they were dating and would most likely marry, which is why I merely hurried things along. You can't adopt unless you're a married couple or at least it's easier to speed through bureaucracy if you are.

I knock it down.

"Whoa, what happened here?" asks Ryuk and I look over my shoulder to see him standing near the only door in the room.

"I'm redecorating," I reply flatly, observing the death god. "Where have you been? You've been gone for two days."

"Looking into something back home," Ryuk says with a shrug.

I clench my fists. "Well?"

"He isn't there anymore," he says, and I glare at him. "What? I've been here for the last eighteen years, and you haven't really let me go home—"

"You've been back plenty of times, you useless bastard!" I snap, and he flinches slightly. I've learned over the years that words hurt  _shinigami_  more than actions. Threats are inadequate but commenting on their behavior and calling them names, seems to provoke some sort of reaction. "Why didn't you know that he was gone?"

Ryuk fidgets. "Well, I didn't think he'd actually manage to make a deal with the King. That's how he was able to get out of there and back here."

Of course, Kira would make a deal for his freedom. "What's the nature of this deal?" I ask as I crouch and begin twirling a piece of hair around my finger.

"I don't know, no one does," he says quickly, likely afraid I'll lash out. "They just know that he got the King's permission to return to Earth and that he was given a second Death Note."

I hum in response. So, Kira has a second notebook, and more than likely has given it to Noriko. It's strange then that I'm still alive. I would've expected Kira to kill us or had her kill us in the name of revenge for beating him all those years ago. It's interesting that we're still alive.

I twist the piece of hair harder as I think. Noriko has a notebook, I don't doubt that Kira gave it to her, and it appears she hasn't used it or she has, and the deaths are so insignificant that they haven't shown up in the media. I loosen my hold. Is it possible that she hasn't used it yet? And if so, why not? Surely she wants revenge for her parents' deaths, for being deceived all these years, for the many betrayals she's experienced. Any of those reasons alone would be enough for an average person to use the notebook and she has all three. Why is she waiting then?

"You okay, Near?" asks Ryuk warily and I look over at him, smirking as the  _shinigami_  shifts on his feet.

I nod. "I'm perfectly fine, Ryuk," I say as I reach into my shirt and pull out my Death Note.

"Please tell me you're not going to kill her," says Ryuk, sounding exasperated and just a little desperate. Maybe he has more of an opinion on this than he first let on.

I shrug as I put the book back in my shirt. "I might, but for now, I'm content to simply watch what she does next." I turn back at him and smile. "After all, Ryuk, this is turning out to be quite interesting."


	20. Link

It's strange, sleeping in a car. It's sort of like camping but not quite. I used to go camping when I was younger, a couple of weekends in the summer and never to anywhere dangerous or exciting. This in and of itself isn't dangerous or exciting, but the circumstances are. I smile to myself as I listen to the quiet, the first peace I've had in a very long time. I know I should be asleep, but I can't, the quiet is too inviting.

"A hotel would've been better," whispers Light, who is laying beside me in the back of the car. Ritsu is in the front seat, fast asleep.

I shrug as I burrow further into my blanket. "Maybe but it would've been easier to trace."

"And parking off the side of the road behind some trees isn't?" asks Light, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. "I think you just didn't want to risk someone recognizing you."

"Yeah, partly," I agree, glancing at the backs of the front seat. "That press conference really didn't help things."

When we were getting dinner earlier in a small ramen noodle place, the news was on and on it were my adoptive family and Ritsu's parents; they were holding a press conference, begging for us to come back. Well, Koji and Mei were begging, everyone else was really quiet. It was the weirdest press conference I'd ever seen. Matsuda and Raku were incredibly quiet, only speaking when asked questions directly, they didn't even plead for me to return, and they didn't even look worried. If anything, they seemed exhausted. I wasn't surprised that Yoshito was quiet, he always is, and at least he looked concerned about Ritsu's safety. Mei did enough crying and begging for the both of them anyhow.

Koji had been a brave little mess of tears. He stood between his parents, holding a picture of me that is no longer recent, and in a broken voice asked for me to come home before dissolving into tears. The cameras focused on him for a while while he cried and Matsuda tried to calm him down; Mei broke down then too, and Yoshito simply held her. It was heartbreaking, to say the least, although what really hurt was the pain on Ritsu's face as he watched his mother and father on television.

He looked so anguished. I could tell he wanted to call his parents then and there and tell them that he's okay and alive and so sorry for worrying them. I even told him to go ahead and call them, and then suggested that he go home, but he refused. He told me that while he didn't like upsetting his parents, at least this way they were safe because the agents wouldn't touch them if they wanted him to eventually cooperate. I'm glad he stayed, but I'm still worried. He's their only child now, and he's never done anything to hurt them this badly before. I have a feeling that the guilt will eventually make him return home, regardless of whether or not I want him to, and I definitely don't want him to leave.

Shortly after that, we agreed to park somewhere and sleep for the night, neither one of us wanting to risk staying in a hotel or a manga café in case people are actively looking for us. I'm not so worried about myself; the picture they showed doesn't look like me anymore, and they used my fake name. Noriko Matsuda. They didn't even mention that I'm their adopted daughter. How nice. Ritsu's picture, on the other hand, looks recent. Of the two of us, he has the better chance of being recognized, and we need to keep a low profile until we can get to my aunt's. Which only raises my concerns because what if she knows about us? What if her institution knows? Are we really going to be safe there? It's a little late to start worrying about that now, I suppose.

"I don't think he'll betray you again," says Light softly, breaking me from my thoughts.

I look over at him curiously. "What makes you say that?"

"The way he looks at you," replies Light, looking at me. "I saw how he looked before when this whole thing started, and he looked . . . Heartbroken, I guess would be the word for it. Now, he looks far more determined, and whenever he looks at you . . . It's different. Good different . . . I suppose."

As much as I want to tease my dad, especially for sounding so awkward, I decide for the sake of the peace, I'll let it slide. For now at least. "Dad," I say, turning to look at him. I'm glad we flattened the seats in the back; otherwise, I would've been stuck sleeping on a row of uncomfortable seats without the luxury of stretching my legs. I can only imagine how Ritsu's coping. "Did you love my mom?"

If the previous conversation was awkward, I can already tell by his tense body language that this one is going to be downright uncomfortable. I shift to sit up on my arm, watching as he moves beside me, looking incredibly fearful of how to proceed.

"Dad, it's okay to tell me the truth," I say reassuringly, hoping that he doesn't take a cue from Kira and lie to me. "I'll understand."

"The truth makes me sound like a heartless jerk," he mumbles, and I bite back a grin. I never would've imagined the great Light Yagami being uncomfortable or mumbling under any circumstances. He sits up and turns, so we're looking at each other. "Promise me you won't hate me for what I'm about to tell you."

I'm somewhat taken aback, but I nod. "I promise."

He sighs heavily and runs a hand through his messy hair, making it look much worse than it was just seconds ago. "I never had any genuine feelings for your mother," he admits, averting his gaze. "In fact, I didn't want to have anything to do with her . . . But Kira wanted to keep her around . . . you see, she had the  _Shinigami_  Eyes, they allow the owner of a Death Note to see anyone's name and lifespan, which were pretty essential to Kira's plans." He sighs again. "I felt bad for her because she thought he or I loved her when neither of us did. Kira loved what she could do for him, and I just wanted to let her go."

His words weight heavily on my heart, and I feel sorry for both of my parents. "If you didn't love her, then why did you make me?"

Light looks up then, his eyes shining in the pale moonlight. "Because I wanted you." He reaches out and cups my cheek. "Nori, don't think for a second that I never wanted you. I made you with Misa because . . . Well. . . I knew I'd never get another chance with anyone else. Kira was bound and determined that Misa would be the one to carry his . . . My child . . . And I couldn't disagree with him because it was something I wanted to . . . God this makes me seem crazy." He moves his hand to take mine. "When . . . When you were made, it wasn't by Kira, he didn't even factor into that night. It was my choice. It was something I wanted. I'm sorry if it makes me sound like a jerk, using your mother like that, but I knew at the time she was the best option. I knew she'd keep you safe and look after you, no matter what."

He lets go of my hand and rolls onto his back, practically shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Fuck, I sound creepy and insane. I can't even answer a simple question because I have to bring him into it to explain why I did something I wouldn't have done and it just makes it sound so much worse than it really was and . . . and I probably need to shut up."

I reach over and pull his hand away; I hold it hard in mine, determined to help. "Dad, I understand, okay? I get it." I squeeze his hand. "I'm sure if things had been different, you and she wouldn't have even crossed paths . . . And I'm sure you know that already. You were making the best of a bad situation, and I can't hate you over that, not when it gave me life . . ." My voice cracks slightly at the end, so I release his hand and lie on my back, trying to force the tears burning in my eyes to go away.

I was honest. I can't be mad at him or hate him for using my mom like he did because if things had been different, if Kira and the Death Note never came into this world, I wouldn't exist. My parents would've never met. Light would probably be married to some beautiful, successful woman and have two or three kids with her and Misa would probably be married to a successful actor or idol or director or someone like that and maybe have one or two kids. The fact remains that none of those kids would be me. I'm a fluke.

"I know something that'll make you sound sane," I offer, grasping at straws, deciding that silence right now isn't something we need. "Every night for the last seventeen years, I've had this recurring dream. In it, I'm in this dead world, everything in it is grey and . . . And I feel this power in it . . . like it used to be something more, and now the purpose is forgotten or corrupt." I don't even look over to see if Light's actually listening, now I'm just talking to myself. "I would see some kind of shadow standing in a tunnel, and I would go after it, run into this tunnel without thinking and watch as the shadow became more and more solid. It always looked human to me but . . . but I never knew what it was." I shake my head. "I know, it sounds crazy and it probably is, but the crazier thing is I haven't had the dream since I got the notebook." I snort softly. "I wonder what that means."

"It means it worked," I hear Light whisper, and I immediately look over at him.

"What are you talking about?" I ask incredulously.

Light looks at me. "Would you believe me if I said I'd been trying to get in contact with you for years?"

I raise an eyebrow with skepticism.

"Well, I have," he admits, looking up at the ceiling. "This is probably going to sound even creepier than what I just said, but I watched you grow up from the Shinigami Realm. And . . . and I tried to communicate with you."

"With the dream," I supply, and he nods. "That's interesting."

Light snorts softly. "Stupid would be a better term for it. I knew it probably wouldn't work like I wanted, and evidently, it didn't. Otherwise, you would've known about me long before now."

I shrug, returning my gaze to the car's roof. "Maybe, or Kira would've used it as a way of controlling me. He seems very upset that he can't use me like he wants."

"And isn't that the understatement of the century," chuckles Light but I can hear the tension in his voice. "You're not exactly the willing subject Kira thought you'd be; in fact, you're really testing what little patience he has. I wouldn't be surprised if he decides to give the notebook to someone else."

"Why did he think I'd be so easy to manipulate?" I ask, curious about the answer. I'm not the most worldly person if anything I've lived a somewhat sheltered life, but that doesn't mean I'm clueless about seeing when someone's trying to use me. Kira isn't the first and definitely won't be the last, so I wonder what about me makes them think I'm an easy target.

"I think he thought because you and I share similar ideals, you'd be more than happy to have the means of enacting the justice you believe in on the world," hypothesizes Light with a small shrug. "I don't know everything that goes through his head, he's very good at keeping his thoughts hidden. Anyway, that doesn't matter, what matters is Kira clearly underestimated you. He assumed a great deal about you, like that learning about Near controlling your life, would drive you to vengeance or some crap like that. He clearly didn't expect you to take the high road in this situation, and for that, I'll be eternally proud." He reaches over and takes my hand, holding it tight in his cold grip. "You're so much better than I was, Nori. Never forget that."

I squeeze his hand back, holding it like he might slip away from me without even realizing. These last few days with him have been fantastic, almost like a dream, and I'm terrified every time I go to sleep. I keep thinking that I'll wake up and he'll be gone forever, that I'll never get the chance to speak to him again, which is why I treasure these moments. We're living on borrowed time, he and I, so we need to make the best of it.

"I won't," I promise him, meaning every word.

* * *

The sun is barely up when we start on the road again. Pink and blue streak the sky as yellow slowly enters the mix, cutting through the dark haze and brightening up the world. I'm sitting beside Ritsu in the passenger's seat, watching as the sky changes color, listening to the hum of the engine. It's peaceful, a stark contradiction to what we're currently doing. I wonder how many people stand between us, and real peace? A hundred maybe, a thousand? Perhaps a million. Maybe the entire country. Or the world. It would make sense, to have the whole world against Ritsu, Light, and I. I'd instead like to spare Ritsu the trouble of being hunted by the world, but he seems determined to stay. I hope Light's right, I hope he doesn't betray me again.

"You're awfully quiet this morning," says Ritsu softly, his eyes might be on the road, but I can feel his attention fully on me. "Something wrong?"

I shake my head, sparing him a lingering glance. "No, just thinking."

"About what?" presses Ritsu, obviously troubled by whatever's bothering me. It's sweet that he cares. "Did something happen? Is it about the press conference?"

I shake my head again. "No, it's nothing like that. I was just wondering how long we'll have to keep running."

"We'll keep running until we can't, I suppose," he offers, and it sounds sincere like he's sure that's the correct answer. It might be. From the corner of my eye, I watch him frown. "I almost did something idiotic yesterday."

I look at him cautiously. I was with him the entire day and didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. "What?"

Without looking away from the road, he reaches into his back pocket and produces his wallet. He hands it to me, and I open it, seeing a few crumpled bills in the back and nothing else of significance, just his license, a library card, and a photo of a young girl and little boy. I know without asking who they are.

"My parents gave me that money after they received their payment from Near," explains Ritsu, glancing at me for a moment. "I almost spent it yesterday at the gas station."

Realization dawns on me. The bills may be marked and could be tracked. If he used them, we'd have been easily located. "Good thing you didn't risk it," I say as I take another look at the photo. The girl, Umaru, has the same hair color as Ritsu, a rich chestnut brown. Her eyes aren't as dark green, more like spring green, and her smile is radiating unbridled happiness. She's beautiful, and I can understand why losing her would hurt Ritsu and his family so much, with her death a bright light left their world.

"That was taken a couple of years before she died," says Ritsu roughly, as if he's choking, and I look up. A crease forms on his brow and his eyes cloud over with the haze of memories and grief. "I don't remember why, I don't think it was planned, but it's one of the few taken before she changed. When she changed, Mom didn't take as many pictures. I think she was hoping it was just a phase and Umaru would grow up and be glad that pictures of her like that didn't exist." His grip tightens on the steering wheel. "I wish she had taken pictures of Umaru anyway. I can't remember her like that anymore."

"You want to remember Umaru like that?" I ask quietly, looking down at the picture in his wallet. It's kind of funny when I think about it. Umaru and I had the same idea of changing our appearance, even if it was for different reasons. From what Ritsu said, it sounds like she changed herself to try and get attention from her parents. I did it so I could distance myself from who I used to be. I wanted people to know I was different now. I smirk to myself. Maybe I'm wrong, and Umaru and I did the same thing for similar reasons after all.

The sound of a siren blaring brings me forcefully back to reality. I look behind me, and to my horror I see a police vehicle following us, the lights on the car flashing red and blue. My stomach flips and my heart drops, we were so close. I look to Ritsu; his face is schooled into a calm exterior as he pulls the car over to the side. I can't tell what's going through his mind right now, and I would give my right arm to know because I can't say whether or not he's going to give us away. He reaches into the compartment on the door and comes up with several pieces of paper. I sit back in my chair, trembling as Ritsu rolls down the window as the officer approaches.

"Do you—" starts the officer as he comes up, only to be interrupted by Ritsu, who shoves the paper into his hand.

"Please! I know I was speeding, but my friend's been hurt, and we were going to a hospital!" cries Ritsu, sounding genuinely terrified as something makes a noise in the back of the car.

The officer's eyes widen, and he looks around the car, his eyes going to me before darting to the back where Light is sitting. He gasps, and I turn around to see Light curled up between the seats, his wounds bleeding profusely. He's making gagging noises and groaning. It's a brilliant performance.

"Just hold on," I say soothingly, as I reach around my seat and rub his shoulder, using my fear to my advantage. My hand shakes as I touch Light and my breathing is a little stilted. It should be more than enough to convince the officer. "It's going to be okay, just hold on!"

"What in hell happened to him?" asks the officer, looking back at Ritsu.

"Does that really matter?!" demands Ritsu angrily. "He's dying! And if we can't get him to the hospital soon, we're going to lose him."

The officer nods dumbly and gives Ritsu his papers back. "The nearest hospital is twenty minutes away. Take the third exit you see and keep driving. You'll see it."

"Thank you, officer," says Ritsu, and he sounds grateful. "I'll try to be more careful."

The officer waves him off. "Don't worry about it kid, just get your friend taken care of."

Ritsu nods and rolls up the window as the police officer heads back to his car. He drives away before the officer has a chance to come back and ask more questions. I notice the needle for the speedometer is a bit over the limit.

"You're speeding," Light points out. "Maybe you should consider slowing down."

"If I do that, and the officer's following us, he might know you're already dead," says Ritsu, looking into the rearview mirror.

There's a beat. Then we all burst out laughing. Light laughs so hard he falls backward, Ritsu's laughing so hard it sounds like he can't breathe, and I laugh until I cry. Their banter wasn't all that funny, but the entire situation was just so . . . So adrenaline inducing and confusing, what other response could we give?

"I'm sorry," says Ritsu, releasing a long breath as he calms down. "I panicked and didn't know what else to do."

I blink back more tears as I wipe my eyes. "Wait, you mean, you improvised that?"

He nods sheepishly. "Yeah, pretty much." His hand drifts down from the steering wheel and fingers the spot between his seat and door where we've hidden the notebook. Not the best spot but the glove box is too small, and we can't risk hiding it someplace we can't see easily, in case Kira returns. "I ripped off a corner of a page from the notebook and hid it at the bottom of the pile. I didn't even think of what I'd do if he didn't touch it, I just planned on him doing it." He runs a hand through his hair. "That was pretty stupid, I know, but I didn't know what else to do. If he ran the registration or looked at my license, he'd know immediately."

I reach over and squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, it worked out."

Light nods and claps his hand on Ritsu's other shoulder. "That was a great idea, Ritsu, even if you were winging it."

"You were pretty believable too, Dad," I comment, and he grins widely.

"I did my best," says Light proudly, squeezing Ritsu's shoulder. "I don't think even L could've come up with a better plan that quickly."

Ritsu's cheeks turn a warm pink, and he smiles brightly. "I'm just glad I was able to think. Honestly, when I saw the lights, I froze."

I smile warmly at him. "So did I. Honestly, I was terrified that this was the end. Thank you, for saving us."

The way his eyes shine at me erases any lingering doubt that he might regret helping me or try to return home sooner than later. "I'm with you until the end, Noriko."

* * *

The Karatsu Healing Center. We finally arrive at our destination. The last living member of my family is here, and I'm terrified. I have no idea what to expect. In the sixteen hours of driving, Light said all of a dozen words about his sister and every time I mentioned her he would divert the conversation to something else. Apparently, his little sister is a sore subject. Still, I wish he'd said  _something_  about her other than she's really lovely and a compassionate woman. I only know my aunt's name, and I have no idea if she knows I exist. Maybe my grandmother told her, and perhaps she didn't. I wish I knew that much at least, otherwise, this might be a nasty shock.

Ritsu pulls the car into the visitor's parking lot and turns off the car. I thought I'd be prepared for this, but now I wish for another sixteen hours.

"It'll be fine," says Ritsu encouragingly as he laces our fingers together. This time he only half looks at Light to see if he's glaring. "If she's still the same girl your dad knew, then she'll be more than happy to accept you."

A nervous half-smile pulls at my lips. "I want to get it over with, but I'm scared of even going in there," I admit, looking back at the center. It certainly doesn't look like a mental health facility. If anything, it seems like a series of apartment buildings. It makes me wonder about the patients' quality of life here.

A tug on my hand brings me back, and I see Ritsu opening his door. I squeeze his hand and release it before steeling my nerves enough to open my door as well. I get out, as does Ritsu, and Light simply passes through the car. Being a shinigami seems to have some exciting benefits.

"You go on in, and I'll be right behind you," says Ritsu as he heads to the trunk, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle. He's guarding the notebook. He flashes me another smile. "Don't worry, your dad will be right there with you."

I look at Light and sigh. His gaze is detached and focused on anywhere that isn't the building in front of us. I don't know why he's so worried; he has the benefit of being invisible to the vast majority of the world's population. It's not like he's going to be the one answering uncomfortable questions. I do wish he would take this a little more seriously. Maybe if he weren't so in his head, he'd give me some tips on how to start what will be an awkward conversation. Perhaps he'd tell me a little bit more about what to expect from his sister. Maybe he'd at least look happy. I guess I'm on my own here. I square my shoulders and start walking. I came here for a reason, to see my aunt and to get to know the last living member of my family. I can't back down now, not when I'm so damn close.

Passing through the automatic doors of the center puts me in what looks like the lobby for an apartment building. It's tough to believe that this place is for the mentally ill. I do see people, who I assume are orderlies, pushing other people in wheelchairs, walking with them, and assisting with IV stands. They're all dressed in casual attire, not anything that would immediately make them stand out as professionals or patients. It's a little strange, but it goes with the calm atmosphere this place gives off almost instantly.

I see a woman with brown hair sitting at what I believe to be the front desk, her hair is pulled in a messy bun, and black-framed glasses perched on her nose. Her face is smooth with only the faintest of lines cutting through the skin by her eyes and around her mouth. She doesn't even seem to have any grey in her hair either. I walk up to it and lean on the counter. She doesn't look up.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where Sayu Yagami is staying?" I ask politely, trying to keep my racing heart under control. If I can keep myself calm for another five minutes, I'll be fine.

The woman starts to look up, "That's—" Her words die in her scream.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you found it entertaining.
> 
> Please leave kudos, a comment, and subscribe! It's the only way I know to keep updating.


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